









^^^^' '^ 



<^ 


V 


«■ 


■V 


* • ' ■• 


v^ 


.* 


\- 


'f> 




%■ ^^^' 






/ 


■'% 


c 




<. 


< 


•5: 









/*/<f. ^ ^ .^\ 



0^' 



.0- 









^:. v^^ 



^N V, 



\/ 
























» .-^ 






A 









xV ^. 









* .X^ '^^ J^ ^^ % ^^ 


















r^0 CL /- 



^Sr>o, 









xO<^. 



"OO^ 






,0'' 



X^ ^^, 



K^ 



,>^^ 









Confessions ,j^ 



OP 



A HOUSEKEEPEK. 



. -» -v 



BY MRS. JOHN SMITH. 



- . — J-J-: — j-r- >, 






PHILADELPHIA: 

LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO. 

NO. 14 NORTH FOURTH STREET. 

18 5 2. 



/S7o 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by 
T. S. ARTHUR, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in 
and for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



STEREOTTPKD BT GEORGE CHA.RLZS. 
PRINTED UY T. K. k P. 0. C0LUN8. 






ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

My Speculation in China Ware 8 

Shotting why the Dinner was Late 20 

Cheap Furniture 38 

A convenient Distance from the City 55 

A plain Family Dinner 68 

Not at Home 85 

Rather Slippery 99 

Sausages for Tea Ill 

"I wonder who it is from. Mrs. Smith gets a great 

MANY Letters" 122 

Broiling a Lobster 146 

*' If any thing is sent Home, lay it carefully on my Bed" 163 

Moths in my Auction Sofa 178 

(3) 



CONTENTS. 



< » » » » 



CHAPTER I. PAGE 

My Speculation in China Ware 9 

CHAPTER II. 
Something about Cooks 21 

CHAPTER III. 
Light on the Subject 29 

CHAPTER IV. 
Cheap Furniture ^ ...... . 37 

CHAPTER V. 
Is IT Economy ? 46 

CHAPTER YI. 
Living at a contenient Distance 54 

CHAPTER VII. 
The picked-uf Dinner 09 

CHAPTER VIIL 
"Who is Kriss Kringle? .....-,•.. ........ ... 77 

CHAPTER IX. 
Not at Home 84 

CHAPTER X. 
Shirt Buttons 92 

CHAPTER XL 

Pavement Washing in Winter 98 

A 2 (5) 



6 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XII. PAGi 

Kegard for the Poor 105 

CHAPTER XIII. 
Something more about Cooks 110 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Not a Rag on their Backs 110 

CHAPTER XV. 
Curiosity 123 

CHAPTER XVI. 

IIOUSE-CLEANING 129 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Broiling a Lobster 147 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
The Strawberry- woman 150 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Lots of Things 1G2 

CHAPTER XX. 
A Cure for Low Spirits 170 

CHAPTER XXI. 
A Bargain 179 

CHAPTER XXII. 
A peevish Day and its Consequences 187 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
Words 107 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
May be so 203 

CHAPTER XXV. 
*' The poor Child died" 209 



ii>*i'j 




CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPEE. 



CHAPTER I. 

MY SPECULATION IN CHINA WAKE. 

This hajDpened a very few years after my 
marriage, and is one of those feeling incidents 
in life that we never forget. My husband's in- 
come was moderate, and we found it necessary 
to deny ourselves many little articles of orna- 
ment and luxury, to the end that there might 
be no serious abatement in the comforts of life. 
In furnishing our house, we had been obliged to 
content ourselves mainly with things useful. 
Our parlor could boast of nine cane-seat chairs ; 
one high-backed cane-seat rocking chair ; a pair 
of card tables ; a pair of ottomans, the covers for 
which I had worked in worsted ; and a few illus- 
trated books upon the card tables. There were 
no pictures on the walls, nor ornaments on the 
mantle pieces. 

For a time after my marriage with Mr. Smith, 
I did not think much about the plainness of our 
style of living ; but after a while, contrasts be- 
tween my ow^n parlors and those of one or two 
friends, would take place in mv mind; and I 

(9) 



10 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

often found myself wishing that we could afford 
a set of candelabras, a pair of china vases, or 
some choice pieces of Bohemian glass. In fact, 
I set my heart on something of the kind, though 
I concealed the weakness from my husband. 

Time stole on, and one increase after another 
to our family, kept up the necessity for careful 
expenditure, and at no time was there money 
enough in the purse to justify any outlay beyond 
what the wants of the household required. So 
my mantel pieces remained bare as at first, not- 
withstanding the desire for something to put on 
them still remained active. 

One afternoon, as I sat at work renovating 
an old garment, with the hope of making it look 
almost " as good as new," my cook entered and 
said — 

" There's a man down stairs, Mrs. Smith, with 
a basket full of the most beautiful glass dishes 
and china ornaments that you ever did see ; and 
he says that he will sell them for old clothes." 

" For old clothes ?" I responded, but half com- 
prehending what the girl meant. 

" Yes ma'am. If you have got an old coat, 
or a pair of pantaloons that aiut good for no- 
thing, he will buy them, and pay you in glass or 
china." 

I paused for a moment to think, and then 
said — 

" Tell him to come up into the dining room, 
Mary." 

The girl went down stairs, and soon came back 
in company with a dull looking old man, who 
carried on his arm a large basket, in which were 



MY> SPECULATION IN CHINA WARE. 11 

temptingly displayed rich china vases^ motto 
and presentation cups and saucers, glass dishes, 
and sundry other articles of a like character. 

" Any old coats, pantaloons or vests ?" said 
the man, as he placed, carefully, his basket on 
the floor. " Don't want any money. See here ! 
Beautiful !" 

And as he spoke, he took up a pair of vases 
and held them before my eyes. They were just 
the thing for my mantle pieces, and I covetted 
them on the instant. 

"What's the price?" I enquired. 

"Got an old coat?" was my only answer. 
" Don't want money." 

My husband was the possessor of a coat that 
had seen pretty good service, and which he had 
not worn for some time. In fact, it had been 
voted superannuated, and consigned to a dark 
corner of the clothes-press. The thought of this 
garment came very naturally into my mind, and 
with the thought a pleasant exhilaration of 
feeling, for I already saw the vases on my 
mantles, 

"Any old clothes?" repeated the vender of 
china ware. 

Without a word I left the dining room, and 
hurried up to where our large clothes-press 
stood, in the passage above. From this I soon 
abstracted the coat, and then descended with 
quick steps. 

The dull face of the old man brightened, the 
moment his eyes fell upon the garment. He 
seized it with a nervous movement, and seemed 
to take in its condition at a single glance. Ap- 



12 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

parcntly, the examination was not very satisfac- 
tory, for he let the coat fall, in a careless man- 
ner, across a chair, giving his shoulders a shrug, 
Avhile a slight expression of contempt flitted over 
his countenance. 

" Not much good !" fell from his lips after a 
pause. 

By this time I had turned to his basket, and 
was examining, more carefully, its contents. 
Most prominent stood the china vases, upon 
which my heart was already set ; and instinct- 
ively I took them in my hands. 

" What will you give for the coat ?" said I. 

The old man gave his head a significant shake, 
as he replied — 

"No very good." 

" It's worth something," I returned. " Many 
a poor person would be glad to buy it for a 
small sum of money. It's only a little de- 
faced. I'm sure its richly worth four or five 
dollars." 

"Pho! Pho! Five dollar! Pho !" The old 
man seemed angry at my most unreasonable 
assuniption. 

" Well, well," said I, beginning to feel a little 
impatient, "just tell me what you will give for 
it." 

" What you want ?" he enquired, his manner 
visibly changing. 

" I want these vases, at any rate," I answered, 
holding up the articles I had mentioned. 

"Worth four, Hye dollar!" ejaculated the 
dealer, in well feigned surprise. 

I shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders, 



MY SPECULATION IN CHINA WARE. 13 



and commenced searching his basket, from which, 
after a while, he took a china cup and saucer, 
on which I read, in gilt letters, " For my Hus- 
band." 

" Give you this," said he. 

It was now my time to show surprise ; I an- 
swered — 

"Indeed you won't, then. But I'll tell you 
what I will do ; I'll let you have the coat for 
the vases and this cup and saucer." 

To this proposition the man gave an instant 
and decided negative, and seemed half offended 
by my offer. He threw the coat, which was in 
his hands again, upon a chair, and stooping 
down took his basket on his arm. I was de- 
ceived by his manner, and began to think that 
I had proposed rather a hard bargain; so I 
said — 

•'• You can have the coat for the vases, if you 
care to make the exchange ; if not, why no harm 
is done." 

For the space of nearly half a minute, the old 
man stood in apparent irresolution, then he re- 
plied, as he set down his basket and took out the 
pair of vases — 

"I don't care; you shall have them." 

I took the vases and he took the coat. A mo- 
ment or two more, and I heard the street door 
close behind the dealer in china ware, with a very 
decided jar. 

"Ain't they beautiful, aunty?" said I to my 
old aunt Rachel, who had been a silent witness 
of the scene I have just described; and I held 
the pair of vases before her eyes. 



14 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

" Why yes, they are rather pretty, Jane," re- 
plied aunt Rachel, a little coldly, as I thought. 

" Rather pretty ! They are beautiful," said I 
warmly. " See there !" And I placed them on 
the dining room mantle. " How much they will 
improve our parlors." 

" Not half so much as that old coat you as 
good as gave away would have improved the 
feelings as well as the looks of poor Mr. Bryan, 
who lives across the street," was the unexpected 
and rebuking answer of aunt Rachel. 

The words smote on my feelings. Mr. Bryan 
was a poor, but honest and industrious young man, 
upon whose daily labor a wife and five children 
were dependent. He went meanly clad, because 
he could not earn enough, in addition to what 
his family required, to buy comfortable clothing 
for himself. I saw, in an instant, what the true 
disposition of the coat should have been. The 
china vases would a little improve the appear- 
ance of my parlors; but how many pleasani 
feelings and hours and days of comfort, would 
the old coat have given to Mr. Bryan. I said 
no more. Aunt Rachel went on v/ith her knit- 
ting, and I took the vases down into the parlors 
and placed them on the mantles — one in each 
room. But they looked small, and seemed quite 
solitary. So I put one on each end of a single 
mantle. This did better; still, I was disap- 
pointed in the appearance they made, and a good 
deal displeased with myself I felt that I had 
made a bad bargain — that is, one from which I 
should obtain no real pleasure. 

For a while I sat opposite the mantle-piece, 



MY SPECULATION IN CHINA WARE. 15 

looking at the vases — ^but, not admiringly ; then 
I left the parlor, and went about my household 
duties, but, with a pressure on my feelings. I 
was far, very far from being satisfied with myself. 

About an hour afterwards my husband came 
home. I did not take him into the parlor to 
show him my little purchase, for, I had no heart 
to do so. As we sat at the tea table, he said, 
addressing me — 

" You loiow that old coat of mine that is up 
in the clothes-press ?" 

I nodded my head in assent, but did not ven- 
ture to speak. 

" I've been thinking to-day," added my hus- 
band, " that it would be just the thing for Mr. 
Bryan, who lives opposite. I'ts rather too much 
worn for me, but will look quite decent on him, 
compared with the clothes he now wears. Don't 
you think it is a good thought ? We will, of 
course, make him a present of the garment." 

My eyes drooped to the table, and I felt the 
blood crimsoning my face. For a moment or two 
I remained silent, and then answered — 

" I'm sorry you didn't think of this before ; 
but it's too late now." 

" Too late ! Why ?" enquired my husband. 

"I sold the coat this afternoon," was my 
reply. 

" Sold it !" 

" Yes. A man came along with some hand- 
some china ornaments, and I sold the coat for a 
pair of vases to set on our mantle-pieces." 

There was an instant change in my husband's 
face. He disapproved of what I had done ; and, 

B 



16 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

though he uttered no condemning words, his 
countenance gave too clear an index to his feelings. 

'' The coat would have done poor Mr. Byran a 
great deal more good than the vases will ever do 
Jane," spoke up aunt Kachel, with less regard 
for my feelings than was manifested by my hus- 
band. "I don't think," she continued, "that 
any body ought to sell old clothes for either 
money or nicknackeries to put on the mantle- 
pieces. Let them be given to the poor, and 
they'll do some good. There isn't a housekeeper 
in moderate circumstances that couldn't almost 
clothe some poor family, by giving away the cast 
off garments that every year accumulate on her 
hands." 

How sharply did I feel the rebuking spirit in 
these words of aunt Rachel. 

" What's done can't be helped now," said my 
husband kindly, interrupting, as he spoke, some 
further remarks that aunt Rachel evidently 
intended to make. "We must do better next 
time." 

" I must do better," was my quick remark, 
made in penitent tones. " I was very thought- 
less." 

To relieve my mind, my husband changed the 
subject of conversation; but, nothing could re- 
lieve the pressure upon my feelings, caused by a 
too acute consciousness of having done what in 
the eyes of my husband, looked like a want of 
true humanity. I could not bear that he should 
think me void of sympathy for others. 

The day following was Sunday. Church time 
came, and Mr. Smith went to the clothes press 



MY SrECULATION IN CHINA WARE. 17 

for his best coat, which had been worn only for 
a few months. 

^' Jane !" he called to me suddenly, in a voice 
that made me start. " Jane ! Where is my best 
coat?" 

'' In the clothes press," I replied, coming out 
from our chamber into the passage, as I spoke. 

" No ; it's not here," was his reply. " And, I 
shouldn't wonder if you had sold my good coat 
for those china vases." 

" No such thing !" I quickly answered, though 
my heart gave a great bound at his words ; and 
then sunk in my bosom with a low tremor of 
alarm. 

" Here's my old coat," said Mr. Smith, holding 
up that defaced garment — "Where is the new 
one ?" 

" The old clothes man has it, as sure as I 
live !" burst from my lips. 

" Well, that is a nice piece of work, I must 
confess !" 

This was all my husband said; but it was 
enough to smite me almost to the floor. Cover- 
ing my face with my hands, I dropped into a 
chair, and sat and sobbed for a while bitterly. 

" It can't be helped now, Jane," said Mr. 
Smith, at length, in a soothing voice. " The 
coat is gone, and there is no help for it. You 
will know better next time." 

That was all he said to me then, and I was 
grateful for his kind consideration. He saw that 
I was punished quite severely enough, and did 
not add to my pain by rebuke or complaint. 

An attempt was made during the week to re- 



18 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

cover the coat, valued at some twenty dollars ; 
but the china ornament-man Avas not to be found 
— he had made too good a bargain to run the 
risk of having it broken. 

About an hour after the discovery of the loss 
of my husband's coat, I went quietly down into 
the parlor, and taking from the mantle-piece the 
china vases, worth, jDrobably, a dollar for the 
pair, concealed them under my apron, lest any 
one should see what I had; and, returning up 
stairs, hid them aw^ay in a dark closet, where 
they have ever since remained. 

The reader may be sure that I never forgot 
this, my first and last speculation in china ware. 



\ 




CHAPTER 11. 

SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS. 

Was there ever a good cook who hadn't some 
prominent fault that completely overshadowed 
her professional good qualities ? If my experi- 
ence is to answ^er the question, the reply will be 
— no. 

I had been married several years before I was 
fortunate enough to obtain a cook that could be 
trusted to boil a potato, or broil a steak. I felt 
as if completely made up when Margaret served 
her first dinner. The roast was just right, and 
all the vegetables were cooked and flavored as 
well as if I had done it myself — in fact, a little 
better. My husband eat with a relish not often 
exhibited, and praised almost every thing on the 
table. 

For a week, one good meal followed another 
in daily succession. We had hot cakes, light and 
fine-flavored, every morning for breakfast, with 
coffee not to be beaten — and chops or steaks 
steaming from the gridiron, that would have 
gladdened the heart of an epicure. Dinner was 
served, during the time, with a punctuality that 
was rarely a minute at fault, while every article 
of food brought upon the table, fairly tempted 
the appetite. Light rolls, rice cakes, or " Sally 
Luns," made without suggestion on my part, 

b2 (21) 



22 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

usually met us at tea time. In fact, the very 
delight of Margaret's life appeared to be in cook- 
ing. She was born for a cook. 

Moreover, strange to say, Margaret was good- 
tempered, a most remarkable thing in a good 
cook ; and more remarkable still, was tidy in her 
person, and cleanly in her work. 

" She is a treasure," said I to my husband, one 
day, as we passed from the dining-room, after 
having partaken of one of her excellent din- 
ners. 

" She's too good," replied Mr. Smith — " too 
good to last. There must be some bad fault 
about her — good cooks always have bad faults 
— and I am looking for its appearance every 
day." 

" Don't talk so, Mr. Smith. There is no rea- 
son in the world why a good cook should not be 
as faultless as any one else." 

Even while I said this, certain misgivings in- 
truded themselves. My husband went to his 
store soon after. 

About three o'clock Margaret presented her- 
self, all dressed to go out, and said that she was 
going to see her sister, but would be back in time 
to get tea. 

She came back, as she promised, but, alas for 
my good cook ! The fault appeared. She was 
so much intoxicated that, in attempting to lift 
the kettle from the fire, she let it fall, and came 
near scalding herself dreadfully. Oh, dear! I 
shall never forget the sad disappointment of that 
hour. How the pleasant images of good dinners 
and comrorta]>le lireak f:\sts and 8Uj)pers Faded 



SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS. 23 

from my vision. The old trouble was to come 
back again, for the faultless cook had mani- 
fested a fault that vitiated, for us, all her good 
qualities. 

On the next day, I told Margaret that we 
must part ; but she begged so hard to be kept in 
her place, and promised good behaviour in future 
so earnestly, that I was prevailed on to try her 
again. It was of no use, however — in less than 
a week she was drunk again, and I had to let 
her go. 

After that, for some months, we had burnt 
steaks, waxy potatoes, and dried roast beef to 
our hearts' content ; while such luxuries as muf- 
fins, hot cakes, and the like were not to be seen 
on our uninviting table. 

My next good cook had such a violent temper, 
that I was actually afraid to show my face in the 
kitchen. I bore with her until patience was no 
longer a virtue, and then she went. 

Biddy, who took charge of my "kitchen cabi- 
net," a year or so afterwards, proved herself a 
culinary artist of no ordinary merit. But, alas ! 
Biddy " kept a room ;" and so many strange dis- 
appearances of bars of soap, bowls of sugar, 
prints of butter, etc., took place, that I was forced 
to the unwilling conclusion that her room was 
simply a store room for the surplussage of mine. 
Some pretty strong evidence on this point coming 
to my mind, I dismissed Biddy, who was par- 
ticularly forward in declaring her honesty, al- 
thoup;li I had never accused her of beino: want- 
ing in that inestimable virtue. 

fSome of my experiences in cooks have been 



24 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

amusing enough. Or, I should rather say, are 
amusing enough to tidnh about: they were rather 
annoying at the time of their occurrence. One 
of these experiences 1 will relate. I had obtain- 
ed a " treasure" in a new cook, who was not 
only good tempered and cleanly, but understood 
lier business reasonably well. Kitty was a little 
different from former incumbents of her office 
in this, that she took an interest in reading, and 
generally dipped into the morning paper before 
it found its way up stairs. To this, of course, I 
had no objection, but w^as rather pleased to see 
it. Time, however, which proves all things, 
showed my cook to be rather too literary in her 
inclinations. I often found her reading, when 
it w^as but reasonable for me to expect that she 
w^ould be working ; and overdone or burnt dishes 
occasionally marked the degree in which her 
mind was absorbed in her literary pleasures, 
which I discovered in time, were not of the 
highest order — such books as the " Mysteries of 
Paris" furnishin": the aliment that fed her imasri- 
nation. 

"Jane," said my husband to me one morning, 
as he was about leaving the house, " I believe I 
must invite my old friend Green to dine wdth me 
to-day. He will leave the city to-morrow, and I 
may not have the pleasure of a social hour with 
him again for years. Besides, I want to intro- 
duce him to you. We were intimate as young 
men, and much attached to each other. I would 
like you to know him." 

*" Invite him, by all means," was my reply. 

" I will send home a turlcey from market," 



SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS. - 25 

said Mr. Smith, as lie stood holding on to the 
open door. " Tell Kitty to cook it just right. 
Mrs. Green, I am told, is a first-rate housekeeper, 
and I feel like showing you ofi* to the best ad- 
vantage." 

'' Don't look for too much," I replied, smiling, 
" lest you be disappointed." 

Mr. Smith went away, and I walked back to 
the kitchen door to say a word to Kitty. As I 
looked in, the sound of my feet on the floor 
caused her to start. She was standing near a 
windoAV, and at my appearance she hurriedly 
concealed something under her apron. 

" Kitty," said I, " we are to have company to 
dine with us to-day. Mr. Smith will send home 
a turkey, which you must dress and cook in the 
best manner. I will be down during the morn- 
ing to make some lemon puddings. Be sure to 
have a good fire in the range, and see that all the 
drafts are clear." ""^ 

Kitty promised that every thing should be 
right, and I went up stairs. In due time the 
marketing came home, ^bout eleven o'clock I 
repaired to the kitchen, and, much to my sur- 
prise, found all in disorder. 

" What in the world have you been doing all 
the morning ?" said I, feeling a little fretted. 

Kitty excused herself good naturedly, and 
commenced bustling about to put things to rights, 
while I got flour and other articles necessary for 
my purpose, and went to work at my lemon 
puddings, which were, in due time, ready for the 
oven. Giving all necessary directions as to their 
baking, and charging Kitty to be sure to have 



2G CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

every thing on the table prcci.sely at our usual 
liour for dining, I went up into the nursery to 
look after the children, and to see about other 
matters requiring my attention. 

Time passed on until, to my surprise, I heard 
the clock strike one. I had yet to dress for 
dinner. 

" I wonder how Kitty is coming on ?" said I to 
myself. " I hope she will not let the puddings 
get all dried up." 

But, I felt too much in a hurry to go down 
and satisfy myself as to the state of affairs in 
the kitchen ; and took it for granted that all was 
right. 

A little while afterwards, I perceived an odor 
as of something burning. 

" What is that ?" came instinctively from my 
lips. " If Kitty has let the puddings burn !" 

Quick as thought I turned from my room, and 
went gliding down stairs. As I neared tiie 
kitchen, the smell of burned Hour, or pastry, 
grew stronger. All was silent below ; and I ap- 
proached in silence. On entering Kittj-'s domain, 
I perceived that lady seated in front of the range, 
Avith a brown covered pamphlet novel held close 
to her face, in the pages of which she was com- 
pletely lost. I never saw any one more entirely 
absorbed in a book. No sign of dinner was any 
wdiere to be seen. Upon the range was a kettle 
of water boiling over into the fire, and from one 
of the ovens poured forth a dark smoke, that 
told too plainly the ruin of my lemon puddings. 
And, to cap all, the turkey, yet guiltless of fire 
or dripping pan, was upon the iloor, in possession 



SOMETHING ABOUT COOKS. 27 

of a strange cat, which had come in through the 
open window. Bending over the still entranced 
cook, I read the title of her book. It was " The 
Wandering Jew." 

" Kitty !" I don't much wonder, now, at the 
start she gave, for I presume there was not the 
zephyr's softness in my voice. 

"Oh, ma'am !" She caught her breath as her 
eyes rested upon the cat and the turkey. " In- 
deed, ma'am !" And then she made a spring 
towards puss, who, nimbly eluding her, passed 
out by the way through which she had come in. 

By this time I had jerked open the oven door, 
when there came rushing out a cloud of smoke, 
which instantly filled the room. My puddings 
were burned to a crisp ! 

As for the turkey, the cat had eaten off one 
side of the breast, and it was no longer fit for 
the table. 

" Well ! this is fine work !" said I, in an angry, 
yet despairing voice. "Fine work, upon my 
word !" 

" Oh, ma'am !" Kitty interrupted me by say- 
ing, "I'll run right off and buy another turkey, 
and have it cooked in time. Indeed I will, 
ma'am ! And I'll pay for it. It's all my fault ! 
oh dear ! dear me ! Now don't be angry, Mrs. 
Smith ! I'll have dinner all ready in time, and no 
one will be any the wisel* for this." 

" In time !" and I raised my finger towards the 
kitchen clock, the hands of which marked the 
period of half past one. Two o'clock was our 
regular dinner hour. 

" Mercy !" ejaculated the frightened cook, as 



28 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

she sank back upon a chair ; " I thought it was 
only a little past eleven. I am sure it was only 
eleven when 1 sat down just to read a page or 
two while the puddings were in the oven !" 

The truth was, the " Wandering Jew," in the 
most exciting portion of which she happened to 
be, proved too much for her imagination. Her 
mind had taken no note of time, and two hours 
passed with the rapidity of a few minutes. 

" I don't exactly comprehend this," said my 
husband, as he sat down with his old friend, to 
dine off of broiled steak and potatoes, at half- 
past two o'clock. 

" It's all the fault of the ' Wandering Jew !' " 
I replied, making an effort to drive away, with a 
smile, the red signs of mortification that were in 
my face. 

" The Wandering Jew !" returned my husband, 
looking mystified. 

" Yes, the fault lies with that imaginary per- 
sonage," said I, "strange as it may seem." And 
then 1 related the mishajDS of the morning. For 
desert, we had some preserved fruit and cream, 
and a hearty laugh over the burnt puddings and 
disfigured turkey. 

Poor Kitty couldn't survive the mortification. 
She never smiled again in my house ; and, at the 
close of the week, removed to another home. 



CHAPTER III. 

LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT. 

" The oil's out, mum," said Hannah, the do- 
mestic who succeeded Kitty, pushing her head 
into the room where I sat sewing. 

" It can't be," I rephed. 

" Indade, mum, and it is. There isn't the full 
of a lamp left," was the positive answer. 

" Then, what have you done with it ?" said I, 
in a firm voice. "It isn't four days since a gal- 
lon was sent home from the store." 

" Four days ! It's more nor a week, mum !" 

" Don't tell me that, Hannah," I replied, firm- 
ly; "for I know better. I was out on last 
Monday, and told Brown to send us home a 
gallon." 

"' Sure, and it's burned, mum, thin ! What 
else could go with it f 

" It never was burned in our lamps," said I, in 
answer to this. "You've either Avasted it, or 
given it away." 

At this Hannah, as in honor bound, became 
highly indignant, and indulged in certain imper- 
tinences which I did not feel inclined to notice. 

But, as the oil was all gone, and no mistake ; 
and, as the prospect of sitting in darkness was 
not, by any means, an agreeable one — the only 
remedy was to order another gallon. 

c (29) ■ 



oO CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

Sometliing was wrong ; that was clear. The 
oil had never been burned. 

That evening, myself and husband talked over 
the matter, and both of us came to the conclu- 
sion, that it would never do. The evil must be 
remedied. A gallon of oil must not again dis- 
a})])ear in four days. 

'' Why,' said my husband, " it ought to last 
us at least a week and a hall." 

" Not quite so long/' I replied. " We burn a 
gallon a week." 

" Not fairly, I'm inclined to think. But four 
days is out of all conscience." 

I readily assented to this, adding some trite 
remark about the unconscionable wastefulness 
of domestics. 

On the next morning, as my husband arose 
from bed, he shivered in the chilly air^ saying, 
as he did so : 

" That girl's let the fire go out again in the 
heater! Isn't it too bad? This thing happens 
now every little while. I'm sure I've said enough 
to her about it. There's nothing wanted but a 
little attention." 

" It is too bad, indeed," I added. 

" There's that fishy smell again !" exclaimed 
Mr. Smith. " What can it be ?" 

" Fishy smell ! So there is." 

" Did you get any mackerel from the store 
yesterday ?" 

" None." 

" Perhaps Hannah ordered some ?" 

" No. I had a ham sent home, and told her 
to have a slice of that broiled for breakfast." 



LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT. 31 

" I don't know what to make of it. Every 
now and then that same smell comes up through 
the register — particularly in the morning. I'll 
bet a sixpence there's some old fish tub in the 
cellar of which she's made kindUng." 

" That may be it/' said I. 

And, for want of a better reason, we agreed, 
for the time being, upon that hypothesis. 

At the end of another four daj^s, word came 
up that our best sperm oil, for which we paid a 
dollar and forty cents a gallon, was out again. 

" Impossible !" I ejaculated. 

" But it is mum," said Hannah. " There's 
not a scrimption left — not so much as the full of 
a thimble." 

" You must be mistaken. A gallon of oil 
has never been burned in this house in four 
days." 

" We burned the other gallon in four days," 
said Hannah, with provoking coolness. " The 
evenings are very long, and we have a great 
many lights. There's the parlor light, and the 
passage light, and the — " 

" It's no use for you to talk, Hannah," I re- 
plied, interrupting her. '^ No use in the world. 
A gallon of oil in four days has never gone by 
fair means in this house. So don't try to make 
me believe it — for I won't. I m too old a house- 
keeper for that." 

Finding that I was not to be convinced, Han- 
nah became angry, and said something about 
her not being a '' thafe." I was unmoved by 
this, however ; and told her, with as much stern- 
ness of manner as I could assume, that T should 



32 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

hold her responsible for any future waste of the 
article; and tliat if she did not feel inchned to 
remain on such terras, she had better go. 

" Dade, thin, and 111 go to onst," was the girl's 
spirited answer. 

" Very well, Hannah. You are your own 
mistress in this respect," said I, coolly. " I'm 
not in the least troubled about lilling your place ; 
nor fearful of getting one who will waste a gal- 
lon of oil in four days." 

Hannah retired from my presence in high in- 
dignation, and I fully expected that slie would 
desert my house forthwith. But, no ; unlike 
some others of her class, she knew when she had 
a good place, and had sense enough to keep it 
as long as she could stay. 

In due time she cooled off, and I heard no 
more about her getting another place. 

" There's that fishy smell again !" exclaimed 
my husband, as he arose up in bed one morning, 
a day or two afterwards, and snuffed the air. 
"And, as I live, the fire in the heater is all out 
again ! I'll have some light on this subject, see 
if I don't. 

And he sprung upon the floor, at the same time 
hurriedly putting on his dressing gown and a 
jmir of slippers. 

'' Where are you going ?" said I, seeing him 
moving towards the door. 

" To find out where this fishy smell comes 
from," he replied, disappearing as he spoke. 

In about live minutes, Mr. Smith returned. 

"Well, if that don't beat all!" he exclaimed, 
as he re-entered the chamber. 



LIGHT ON THE SUBJECT. 3 



o 



" What ?" I very naturally enquired. 

" I've found out all about that fishy smell," 
said he. 

" AVhat about it ? Where does it come from ?" 

"You wouldn't guess in a month of Sun- 
days ! Well, this is a great world ! Live and 
learn !" 

" Explain yourself, Mr. Smith. I'm all impa- 
tience." 

" I will ; and in a few words. The fire was 
out in the heater." 

"Yes." 

"And I very naturally took my way down to 
where I expected to find our lady at work in the 
re-knidling process." 

"Well?" 

"Sure enough, there she was, kindling the 
fire with a vengeance." 

" With what ?" I asked. " With a vengeance ?" 

" Yes, with a vengeance to my pocket. She 
had the oil can in her hands, and was pouring 
its contents freely into the furnace, in order to 
quicken combustion. I now understand all about 
this fishy smell." 

" And I all about the remarkable disappear- 
ance of a gallon of oil in four days. Kindling 
the fire with dollar and forty cent oil !" 

" Even so !" 

" What did you say to her, Mr. Smith?" 

" Nothing. But I rather think she'll not 
want me to look at her again, the huzzy !" 

" Kindling fire v/ith my best sperm oil ! Well, 
I can't get over that !" 

Something in this wise I continued to ejacu- 

c2 



34 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

late, now and then, until my astonislimcnt fairly 
wore itself out. 

I didn't consider it worth while to say any 
tiling to Hannah when I went down stairs, think- 
ing it best to let the look my husband spoke of, 
do its work. By the way, I don't much wonder 
that she was frightened at his look — for he can 
— I^ut I forgot — I am speaking of my husband, 
and he might happen to read this. 

Of course, Hannah's days in my house were 
numbered. No faith was to be placed in a crea- 
ture who could so shamefully destroy a useful 
article 2)laced in her hands. If she would burn 
up the oil, it was but fair to infer that she would 
;i.s remorselessly make way with other tmngs. 
So I parted with her. She begged me to let her 
jstay, and made all sorts of promises. But I was 
innnovable. 

Whether I bettered myself in the change, is 
somewhat doubtful. 



CHAPTER IV. 

CHEAP FURNITURE. 

One of the cardinal virtues, at least for house- 
keepers who are not overburdened in the matter 
of income, is economy. In the early part of our 
married life, Mr. Smith and myself were forced 
to the practice of this virtue, or incur debt, of 
which both of us had a natural horror. For a 
few years we lived in the plain style with which 
we had begun the world. But, when our cir- 
cumstances improved, we very naturally desired 
to improve the appearance of things in our 
household. Our cane seat chairs and ingrain 
carpet looked less and less attractive every day. 
And, when we went out to spend an evening, 
socially, with our friends, the contrast between 
home and abroad was strikingly apparent to our 
minds. 

" I think," said Mr. Smith to me, one day, 
" that it is time we re-furnished our parlors." 

'^ If you can afford the outlay," I remarked. 

" It won't cost a great deal," he returned. 

" Not over three hundred dollars," said I. 

Mr. Smith shook his head as he answered : 

" Half that sum ought to be sufficient. What 
will we want ?" 

"A dozen mahogany chairs to begin with," I 
replied. " There will be sixty dollars." 

(37) 



38 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

'' You don't expect to pay five dollars a-piece 
for chairs ?" said my husband, in a tone of sur- 
prise. 

" I don't think you can get good ones for less." 

" Indeed we can. I was looking at a very 
handsome set yesterday ; and the man only asked 
four dollars for them. I don't in the least doubt 
that I could get them for three and a half" 

" And a dear bargain you would make of that, 
I do not in the least doubt. It is ^^oor economy, 
Mr. Smith, to buy cheap furniture. It costs a 
great deal more in the end, than good furniture, 
and never gives you any satisfaction." 

" But these were good chairs, Jane. As good 
as I would wish to look at. The man said they 
were from one of the best shops in the city, and 
of superior workmanship and finish." 

As I make it a point never to prolong an 
argument with my *husband, when I see his 
mind bent in one direction, I did not urge my 
view of the case any farther. It was settled, 
however, that we could afford to re-furnish our 
parlors in a better style, and that in the course 
of the coming week, we should go out together 
and select a Brussels carpet, a sofa, a dozen ma- 
hogany chairs, a centre table, &c. 

As I had foreseen from the beginning, my 
husband's ideas of economy were destined to mar 
everything. At one of the cabinet ware-rooms 
was a very neat, well-made set of chairs, for 
which five dollars and a half were asked, but 
which the dealer, seeing that he was beyond our 
mark, offered for five dollars. They were cheap 
at that pi'ice. But Mr. Smith coiild not see 



CHEAP FURNITURE. 39 

tliat they were a whit hetter than the set of 
chairs just mentioned as offered for four dollars; 
and which he v/as satisfied could be bought for 
three and a ha^lf. So I went with him to look 
at them. They proved to be showy enough, if 
that were any recommendation, but had a com- 
mon look in my eyes. They were not to be com- 
pared with the set we had just been examining. 

" Now, are they not very beautiful, Jane ?" 
said my husband. To me they are quite as hand- 
some as those we were asked sixty dollars for." 

From this I could not but dissent, seeing 
which, the cunning dealer came quickly to my 
husband's side of the question with various con- 
vincing arguments, among the strongest of which 
was an abatement in the price of the chairs — he 
seeing it to be for his interest to offer them for 
three dollars and three-quarters a-piece. 

"I'll give you three and a-half," said Mr. 
Smith, promptly. 

" Too little, that, sir," returned the dealer. 
" I don't make a cent on them at three and three- 
quarters. They are fully equal, in every respect, 
to the chairs you were offered at five dollars. I 
know the manufacturer, and have had his articles 
often." 

" Say three and a-half, and its a bargain," was 
the only reply made to tliis by my economical 
husband. 

I was greatly in hopes that the man would 
decline this ofter ; but, was disappointed. He 
hesitated for some time, and, at last, said : 

" Well, I don't care, take them along ; though 
it is throwing them away. Such a bargain you 



40 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

will never get again, if you live to be as old as 
Matliu.selah. But, now, don't you want some- 
thing else? I can sell you cheaper and better 
articles in the furniture line than you can get 
ill the city. Small profits and quick sales — I go 
in for the nimble sixpence." 

My husband was in the sphere of attraction, 
and I saw that it would take a stronger effort on 
jny part to draAV him out than I wished to make. 
80, I jdelded with as good a grace as possible, 
and aided in the selection of a cheap sofa, a 
cheap, overgrown centime table, and tAvo or three 
other article that were almost " thrown away." 

Well, our p)arlor was furnished with its new 
dress in good time, and made quite a respectable 
appearance. Mr. Smith was delighted with every- 
thing ; the more particularly as the cost had 
been so moderate. I had my own thoughts on 
the subject; and looked very confidently for 
some evidences of imperfection in our great bar- 
gains. I was not very long kept in suspense. 
One morning, about two weeks after all had 
been fitted out so elegantly, while engaged in 
dusting the chairs, a part of the mahogany 
ornament in the back of one of them fell off. 
On the next day, another showed the same evi- 
dence of imperfect workmanship. A few eve- 
nings afterwards, as we sat at the centre table, 
one of our children leaned on it rather heavily, 
when there was a sudden crack, and the side 
upon which he was bearing his weight, swaged 
down the distance of half an inch or more. The 
next untoward event was the dropping of one of 
its feet by the sofa, and the warping up of a large 



CHEAP FURNITURE. 41 

piece of veneering on the back. While lament- 
ing over this, we discovered a broken spring 
ready to make its way through the hair cloth 
covering. 

" So much for cheap furniture/' said I, in a 
tone of involuntary triumjDh. 

My husband looked at me half reproachfully^ 
and so I said no more. 

It was now needful to send for a cabinet 
maker, and submit our sofa and chairs to his 
handy workmanship. He quickly discovered 
other imperfections, and gave us the consoling 
information that our fine furniture was little 
above fourth-rate in quality, and dear at any 
price. A ten dollar bill was required to pay the 
damage they had already sustained, even under 
our careful hands. 

A more striking evidence of our folly in buy- 
ing cheap furniture was, however, yet to come. 
An intimate friend came in one evening to sit a 
few hours with us. After conversing for a time, 
both he and my husband took up books, and 
commenced reading, while I availed myself of 
the opportunity to write a brief letter. Our 
visitor, who was a pretty stout man, had the bad 
fault of leaning back in his chair, and balancing 
himself on its hind legs ; an experiment most 
trying to the best mahogahy chairs that were 
ever made. 

We were all sitting around the centre table, 
upon which burned a tall astral lamp, and I was 
getting absorbed in my letter, when suddenly 
there was a loud crash, followed by the breaking 
of the table from its centre, and the pitching 



42 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEKPFR. 

over of the astral lamp, which, in falling, just 
gra7.cd my side, and went down, oil and all, upon 
our new carpet ! An instant more, and we were 
in total darkness. But, ere the light went out, 
a glance had revealed a scene that I shall never 
forget. Our visitor, whose weight, as he tried 
his usual balancing experiment, had caused the 
slender legs of his chair to snap off short, had 
fallen backwards. In trying to save himself, he 
had caught at the table, and wrenched that from 
its centre fastening. Startled by this sudden 
catastrophe, my husband had sprung to his feet, 
grasping his chair with the intent of drawing it 
away, when the top of the back came oft' in his 
hand. I saw all this at a single glance — and 
then we were shrouded in darkness. 

Of the scene that followed, I will not s^x^ak. 
My lady readers can, witout any eftbrt of the 
mind, imagine something of its unpleasant reality. 
As for our visitor, when lights were brought in, 
he was no where to be seen. I have a faint 
recollection of having heard the street door shut 
amid the confusion that succeeded the incident 
just described. 

About a week afterwards, the whole of our 
cheap furniture was sent to auction, where it 
brought less than half its first cost. It was then 
replaced with good articles, by good workmen, 
at a fair price ; not one of which has cost us, to 
this day, a single cent for repairs. 

A housekeeping friend of mine, committed, not 
long since, a similar error. Her husband could 
spare her a couple of hundred dollars for re-fur- 
nishing purposes ; but, as his business absorbed 



CHEAP FURNITURE. 43 

nearly all of his time and thoughts, he left with 
her the selection of the new articles that were 
to beautify their parlors and chambers, merely 
saying to her : 

" Let what you get be good. It is cheapest in 
the end." 

Well, my friend had set her heart on a dozen 
chairs, a new sofa, centre table, and "what-not," 
for her parlors ; and on a dressing-bureau, mar- 
hogany bedstead, and wash-stand, for her cham- 
ber, besides a new chamber carpet. Her iirst 
visit was to the ware-rooms of one of our best 
cabinet makers ; but, his prices completely fright- 
ened her — for, at his rate, the articles she wanted 
would amount to more than all the money she 
had to spend, and leave nothing for the new 
chamber carpet. 

" I must buy cheaper," said she. 

" The cheapest is generally dearest in the end," 
returned the cabinet maker. 

" I don't know about that," remarked the lady, 
whose thoughts did not take in the meaning of 
the man's words. "All I know is, that I can 
get as good articles as I desire at lower prices 
than you ask." 

It did not once occur to my friend, that it 
would be wisest to lessen the number of articles, 
and get the remainder of the first quality. No ; 
her heart covered the whole inventory at first 
made out, and nothing less would answer. So 
she went to an auction store, and bought inferior 
articles at lower prices. I visited her soon after. 
She showed me her bargains, and, with an air 
of exultation, spoke of the cost. 

D 



44 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

*' What do you think I paid for this?" said 
si 10, referring to a showy dressing-bureau ; and, 
as siie spoke, she took hold of the suspended 
looking-glass, and moved the upper portion of it 
forward. " Only seventeen dollars !" 

The words had scarcely passed her lips, ere 
the looking-glass broke away from one of the 
screws that held it in the standards, and fell, 
crashing, at our feet ! 

It cost just seven dollars to replace the glass. 
But, that was not all — over thirty dollars were 
paid during the first year for repairs. And this 
is only the beginning of troubles. 

Cheap furniture is, in most cases, the dearest 
that housekeepers can buy. It is always break- 
ing, and usually costs more, in a year or two, 
than the difference between its price and that of 
first-rate articles ; to say nothing of the vexation 
and want of satisfaction that always attends its 
possession. Better be content with fewer articles, 
if the purse be low, and have them good. 

While on this subject. I will incorporate in 
these " Confessions" an " Experience" of my sis- 
ter and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. John Jones. 
Mr. Jones is, in some respects, very much like 
Mr. Smith, and, as will be seen in the story about 
to be given, my sister's ideas of things and my 
own, run quite parallel to each other. The story 
has found its way, elsewhere, into print, for Mr. 
Jones, like myself, has a natural fondness for 
types. But its repetition here will do no harm, 
and brhig it before many who would not other- 
wise see it. 



CHAPTER y. 

IS IT ECOXOMY? 

The ^^ Experience" of my relative, Mr. John 
Jones, referred to in the preceding chapter, is 
given in what follows. After reading it, we 
think that few young housekeepers will commit 
the folly of indulging to any very great extent 
in cheap furniture. 

We had been married five years, and during 
the time had boarded for economy's sake. But 
the addition of one after another to our family, 
admonished us that it was getting time to enlarge 
our borders; and so we were determined to go 
to housekeeping. In matters of domestic econo- 
my both my wife and myself were a little 
'•' green," but I think that I was the greenest of 
the two. 

To get a house was our first concern, and to 
select furniture was our next. The house was 
found after two months' diligent search, and 
at the expense of a good deal of precious shoe 
leather. Save me from another siege at house- 
hunting ! I would about as soon undertake to 
build a suitable dwelling with my own hands, as 
to find one " exactly the thing" already up, and 
waiting with open doors for a tenant. All the 
really desirable houses that we found ticketed 

(45) 



40 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSEKEErER. * 

"to let," were at least two prices above our limit, 
and most of those within our means we would 
hardly have lived in rent free. 

At last, however, we found a cosey little nest 
of a house, just built, and clean and neat as a 
new pin, from top to bottom. It suited us to a 
T. And now came the next most important 
business — selecting furniture. My wife's ideas 
had always been a little in advance of mine. 
That is, she liked to have every thing of the 
best quality; and had the weakness, so to speak, 
of desiring to make an appearance. As my 
income, at the time, was but moderate, and the 
prospect of an increase thereof not very flatter- 
ing, I felt like being exceedingly prudent in all 
outlays for furniture. 

" We must be content with things few and 
plain," said I, as we sat down one morning to 
figure up what we must get. 

" But let them be good," said my wife. 

" Strong and substantial," was my reply. " But 
we can't aflbrd to pay for much extra polish and 
filagree work." 

" I don't want any thing very extra, Mr. 
Jones," returned my v/ife, a little uneasily. 
" Though what I do have, I would like good. 
It's no economy, in the end, to buy cheap 
thino's." 

The emphasis on the word cheap, rather grated 
on my ear; for I was in favor of getting every 
thing as cheap as possible. 

" What kind of chairs did yow think of getting?" 
asked Mrs. Jones. 

"A handsome set of cane-seat," I replied, 



IS IT ECONOMY? 47 

thinking that in this, at least, I would be even 
with her ideas on the subject of parlor chairs. 

But her face did not brighten. 

" What would you like ?" said I. 

" I believe it would be more economical in the 
end to get good stuffed seat, mahogany chairs/' 
replied Mrs. Jones. 

'^At ^Ye dollars a-piece, Ellen?" 

" Yes. Even at ^ve dollars a-piece. They 
would last us our life-time; while cane-seat 
chairs, if we get them, will have to be renewed 
two or three times, and cost a great deal more 
in the end, without being half so comfortable, 
or looking half-so well." 

" Sixty dollars for a dozen chairs, when very 
good ones can be had for twenty-four dollars ! 
Indeed, Ellen, we mustn't think of such a thing. 
We can't afford it. Remember, there are a great 
many other things to buy." 

" I know, dear ; but I am sure it will be much 
more economical in the end for us to diminish 
the number of articles, and add to the quality of 
what we do have. I am very much like the 
poor woman who preferred a cup of clear, strong, 
fragrant coffee, three times a week, to a decoc- 
tion of burnt rye every day. What I have, I 
do like good." 

"And so do I, Ellen. But, as I said before, 
there will be, diminish as we may, a great many 
things to buy, and we must make the cost of 
each as small as possible. We must not think 
of such extravagance as mahogany chairs now. 
At some other time we may get them." 

My wife here gave up the point, and, what I 

d2 



18 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

thought a little remarkable, made no more points 
on the subject of furniture. I had every thing 
my own way ; I bought cheap to my heart's con- 
tent. It was only necessary for me to express 
my approval of an article, for her to assent to 
its purchase. 

As to patronizing your fashionable cabinet 
n.ialvers and high-priced upholsterers, we were 
not guilty of the lolly, but bought at reasonable 
rates from auction stores and at public sales. 
Our parlor carpets cost but ninety cents a yard, 
and were handsomer than those for which a lady 
of our acquaintance paid a dollar and thirty- 
eight. Our chairs were of a neat, fancy pattern, 
and had cost thirty dollars a dozen. We had 
hesitated for some time between a set at twenty- 
four dollars a dozen and these ; but the style 
being so much more attractive, we let our taste 
govern in the selection. The price of our sofa 
was eighteen dollars, and I thought it a really 
genteel affair, though my wife was not in rap- 
tures about it. A pair of card tables for fifteen 
dollars, and a marble-top centre table for fourteen, 
gave our parlors quite a handsome appearance. 

" I wouldn't ask any thing more comfortable 
or genteel than this," said I, when the parlors 
were all ^^ fixed" right. 

Mrs. Jones looked pleased with the appearance 
of things, but did not express herself extrava- 
gantly. 

In selecting our chamber furriiture, a hand- 
some dressing-l)ureau and French bedstead that 
my wife Avent to look at in the ware-room of a 
liigh-pi-iced cabinet maker, tempted her st ronglj*, 



IS IT ECONOMY? 49 

and it was with some difficulty that I could get 
her ideas back to a regular maple four-poster, a 
plain, ten dollar bureau, and a two dollar dress- 
ing-glass. Twenty and thirty dollar mattresses, 
too, were in her mind, but when articles of the 
kind, just as good to wear, could be had at eight 
and ten dollars, Avhere was the use of wasting 
money in going higher ? 

The ratio of cost set down against the fore- 
going articles, was maintained from garret to 
kitchen; and I was agreeably disappointed to 
hnd, after the last bill for purchases was paid, 
that I was within the limit of expenditures I 
had proposed to make by over a hundred dollars. 

The change from a boarding-house to a com- 
fortable home was, indeed, pleasant. We could 
never get done talking about it. Every thing 
was so quiet, so new, so clean, and so orderly. 

" This is living," would drop from our lips a 
dozen times a week. 

One day, about three months after we had 
commenced housekeeping, I came home, and, on 
entering the parlor, the first thing that met my 
eyes was a large spot of white on the new sofa. 
A piece of the veneering had been knocked off, 
completely disfiguring it. 

" What did that ?" I asked of my wife. 

" In setting back a chair that I had dusted," 
she replied, " one of the feet touched the sofa 
lightly, when off dropped that veneer like a 
loose flake. I've been examining the sofa since, 
and find that it is a very bad piece of work. 
Just look here." 

And she drew me over to the place where my 



50 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

eighteen dollar sofa stood, and pointed out sundry 
large seams that had gaped open, loose spots in 
the veneering, and riekety joints. I saw now, 
what I had not before seen, that the whole ar- 
ticle was of exceedingly common material and 
common workmanship. 

" A miserable piece of furniture !" said I. 

" It is, indeed," returned Mrs. Jones. " To 
buy an article like this, is little better than 
throwing money into the street." 

For a month the disfigured sofa remained in 
the parlor, a perfect eye-sore, when another piece 
of the veneering sloughed ojQf, and one of the 
feet became loose. It was then sent to a cabinet 
maker for repair; and cost for removing and 
mending just live dollars. 

Not long after this, the bureau had to take a 
like journey, for it had, strangely enough, fallen 
into sudden dilapidation. All the locks were 
out of order, half, the knobs were off, there was 
not a drawer that didn't require the most accu- 
rate balancing of forces in order to get it shut 
after it was once open, and it showed premoni- 
tory symptoms of shedding its skin like a snake. 
A five dollar bill was expended in putting this 
into something like iisahle order and respectable 
aspect. By this time a new set of castors was 
needed for the maple four-poster, which was ob- 
tained at the expense of two dollars. Moreover, 
the head-board to said four-poster, which, from 
its exceeding ugliness, had, from the first, been 
a terrible eye-sore to Mrs. Jones, as well as to 
myself, was, about tliis period, removed, and one 
of more sightly appearance sul^stituted, at the 



IS IT ECONOMY? 51 

additional charge of six dollars. No tester frame 
had accompanied the cheap bedstead at its origi- 
nal purchase, and now my wife wished to have 
one, and also a light curtain above and valance 
below. All these, with trimmings, etc., to match, 
cost the round sum of ten dollars. 

" It looks very neat," said Mrs. Jones, after 
her curtains were up. 

" It does, indeed," said I. 

" Still," returned Mrs. Jones, " I would much 
rather have had a handsome mahogany French 
bedstead." 

" So would I," was my answer. " But you 
know they cost some thirty dollars, and w^e paid 
but sixteen for this." 

" Sixteen !" said my wife, turning quickly 
toward me. " It cost more than that/' 

" Oh, no. I have the bill in my desk," was 
my confident answer. 

" Sixteen was originally paid, T know," said 
Mrs. Jones. " But then, remember, what it has 
cost since. Two dollars for castors, six for a new 
head-board, and ten for tester and curtains. 
Thirty-four dollars in all ; when a very hand- 
some French bedstead, of good workmanship, 
can be bought for thirty dollars." 

I must own that I was taken somewhat aback 
by this array of figures " that don't lie." 

"And for twenty dollars we could have bought 
a neat, well made dressing-bureau, at Moore and 
Campion's, that would have lasted for twice as 
many years, and always looked in credit." 

" But ours, you know, only cost ten," said I. 

" The bureau, such as it is, cost ten, and the 



52 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSKKEEFER. ^ 

glass two. Add five that we have already paid 
ior repairs, and the four that our maple bedstead 
has cost above the price of a handsome French 
one, and we will have the sum of twenty-one 
dollars, — enough to purchase as handsome a 
dressing-bureau as I would ask. So you see. Mr. 
Jones, that our cheap furniture is not gomg to 
turn out so cheap after all. And as for looks, 
why no one can say there is much to brag 
of." 

This was a new view of the case, and certainly 
one not very flattering to my economical vanity. 
I gave in, of course, and admitted that Mrs. 
Jones was right. 

But the dilapidations and expenses for repairs, 
to which I have just referred, were but as the 
"beginning of sorrows." It took about three 
years to show the full fruits of my error. By 
the end of that time, half my parlor chairs had 
beeii rendered useless in consequence of the 
back-breaking and seat-rending ordeals through 
which they had been called to pass. The sofa 
was unanimously condemned to the dining room, 
and the ninety cent carpet had gone on fading 
and defacing, until my wife said she was ashamed 
to put it even on her chambers. For repairs, 
our furniture had cost, up to this period, to say 
nothing of the perpetual annoyance of having 
it put out of order, and running for the cabinet 
maker and upholsterer, not less than a couple of 
hundred dollars. 

Finally, I grew desperate. 

" I'll have decent, well made furniture, let it 
cost what it will," said I, to Mrs. Jones. 



IS IT ECONOMY? 53 

^' You will find it cheapest in the end/' was 
her quiet reply. 

On the next day we went to a cabinet maker, 
whose reputation for good work stood among the 
liighest in the city; and ordered new parlor and 
chamber furniture — mahogany chairs, French 
bedstead, dressing-bureau and all, and as soon 
as they came home, cleared the house of all the 
old cheap (dear !) trash with which we had been 
worried since the day we commenced housekeep- 
ing. 

A good many years have passed since, and we 
have-not paid the first five dollar bill for repairs. 
All the drawers run as smoothly as railroad cars ; 
knobs are tight ; locks in prime order, and ve- 
neers cling as tightly to their places as if they 
had grown there. All is right and tight, and 
wears an orderly, genteel appearance ; and what 
is best of all, the cost of every thing we have, 
good as it is, is far below the real cost of what 
is inferior. 

" It is better — much better," said I to Mrs. 
Jones, the other day. 

" Better !" was her reply. " Yes, indeed, a 
thousand times better to have good things at 
once. Cheap furniture is dearest in the end. 
Every housekeeper ought to know this in the 
beginning. If we had known it, see what we 
would have saved." 

" If / had known it, you mean," said I. 

My wife looked kindly, not triumphantly, into 
my face, and smiled. When she again spoke, it 
was on another subject. 



CHAPTER VI. 

LIVING AT A CONVENIENT DISTANCE. 

TiiEKE are few of us who do not feel, at some 
time ill life, the desire for change. Indeed, 
change of place corresj^onding, as it does, in out- 
ward nature, to change of state in the mind, it 
is not at all surprising that we should, now and 
then, feel a strong desire to remove from the old, 
and get into new locations, and amid different 
external associations. Thus, we find, Jii many 
famiUes, an ever recurring tendency to removal. 
Lideed, I have some housekeeping friends who 
are rarely to be found in the same house, or in 
the same part of the city, in any two consecu- 
tive years. Three moves, Franklin used to say, 
were equal to a fire. There are some to whom 
I could point, who have been, if this holds true, 
as good as burned out, three or four times in the 
last ten years. 

But, I must not write too long a preface to 
my present story. Mr. Smith and myself can- 
not boast of larger organs of Inhabitativeness — 
I believe that is tjie word used by phrenologists 
— than many of our neighbors. Occasionally 
we have felt dissatisfied with the state of things 
around us, and become possessed of the demon 
of change. We have moved quite frequently, 
sometimes attaining superior comfort, and some 
(54) 



LIVING AT A CONVENIENT DISTANCE, 57 

times, getting rather the worst of it for "the 
change." 

A few years ago, in the early spring-time, Mr. 
Smith said to me, one day : 

"I noticed, in riding out yesterday, a very 
pleasant country house on the Frankford Road, 
to let, and it struck me that it would be a fine 
thing for us, both as to health and comfort, to 
rent it for the summer season. What do you 
think of it?" 

" I alwaj^^s loved the country, you know," was 
my response. 

My heart had leaped at the proposition. 

" It is such a convenient distance from the 
city," said Mr. Smith. 

"How far?" 

"About four miles." 

" Do the stages pass frequently ?" 

"Every half hour; and the fare is only twelve 
and a half cents." 

" So low ! That is certainly an inducement." 

" Yes, it is. Suppose we go out and look at 
the house ?" 

"Very well," said I. And then w^e talked 
over the pleasures and advantage that w^ould 
result from a residence in the country, at such a 
convenient distance from the city. 

"On the next day we went to look at the 
place, and found much, both in the house and 
grounds, to attract us. There was a fine shaded 
lawn, and garden with a stock of small and large 
fruit. 

" What a delightful place for the children," I 
exclaimed. 

E 



58 COXFESSIOXS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

^ And at such a convenient distance from the 
city," said my husband. '' I can go in and out 
to business, and scarcely miss the time. But do 
you think you would like the country?" 

^' O, yes. Tve always loved the country." 

'' We can move back into the city when the 
summer closes," said Mr. Smith. 

"AYhy not remain here permanently? It 
will be too expensive to keep both a city and 
country house," I returned. 

'^ It will be too dreary through the w^inter." 

" I don't think so. 1 always feel cheerful in 
the country. And, then, you know, the house 
is at such a convenient distance, and the stages 
pass the door at every half hour. You can get 
to business as easily as if we resided in the 
city." 

1 was in the mood for a change, and so it hap- 
pened was Mr. Smith. The more we thought 
and talked about the matters, the more inclined 
were we to break up m the city, and go permor 
nently to the country. And, finally, we resolved 
to try the experiment. 

So the pleasant country house was taken, and 
the town house given up, and, in due time, we 
took our flight to where nature had just carpeted 
the earth in freshest green, and caused the buds 
to expand, and the trees of the forest to clothe 
themselves in verdure. 

How pleasant was every thing. A gardener 
had been employed to put the garden and lawn 
in order, and soon we were delighted to see the 
first shoots from seeds that had been planted, 
making their way through the ground. To me. 



LIVING AT A CONVENIENT DISTANCE. 69 

all was delightful. I felt almost as light-hearted 
as a child, and never tired of expressing my 
pleasure at the change. 

" Come and see us/' said I, to one city friend 
and another, on meeting them. " We're in a 
most delightful place, and at such a convenient 
distance from the city. Just get into the Frank- 
ford omnibus, which starts from Hall's, in Second 
street above Market, every half hour, and you 
will come to our very door. And I shall be so 
delighted to have a visit from you." 

In moving from the city, I took with me two 
good domestics, who had lived in my familj^ for 
over a year. Each had expressed herself as de- 
lighted at the prospect of getting into the coun- 
try, and I was delighted to think they were so 
well satisfied, for I had feared lest they would 
be disinchned to accompany us. 

About a month after our removal, one of them, 
who had looked dissatisfied about something, 
came to me and said : ^ 

" I want to go back to the city, Mrs. Smith ; I 
don't like living in the country." 

"Very well," I replied. '^You must do as 
you please. But I thought you preferred this to 
the city ?" 

" I thought I would like it, but I don't. It's 
too lonesome." 

I did not persuade her to stay. That error I 
had once or twice, ere this, fallen into, and 
learned to avoid it in future. So she went back 
to the city, and I was left with but a single girl. 
Three days only elapsed before this one announced 
her intended departure. 



60 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

" But you ^vill stay," said I, ^' until I can get 
some one in your place." 

" My week will be up on Saturday," was re- 
plied. " Can you get a girl by that time ?" 

" That leaves me only two days, Mary ; I'm 
afraid not." 

Mary looked unamiable enough at this an- 
swer. We said no more to each other. In 
tlie afternoon I went to the city to fmd a new 
domestic, if possible, but returned unsuccess- 
ful. 

Saturday came, and to my surprise and trou- 
ble, Mary iDcrsisted in going aAvay. So I was 
left, with my llimily of six persons, without any 
domestic at all. 

Sunday proved to me any thing but a day of 
rest. After washing and dressing the children, 
preparing breakfast, clearing away the table, 
making the beds, and putting the house to order, 
I set about getting dinner. This meal furnished 
and eaten, and the dishes washed and put away, 
I found myself not only completely tired out, 
but suffering from a most dreadful headache. I 
was lying down, about four o'clock, in a half- 
waking and sleeping state, with my head a little 
easier, when my husband, who was sitting by the 
window, exclaimed : 

" If there isn't Mr. and Mrs. Peters and their 
three children, getting out of the stage!" 

" Not coming here !" said I, starting up in bed, 
while, at the same moment, my headache re- 
turned with a tJirobbing intensity that almost 
bHnded me. 

" Yes, coming here," replied Mr. Smith. 



LIVING AT A CONVENIENT DISTANCE. 61 

" How unfortunate !" came from my lips^ as I 
clasped my hands to my temples. 

Now, Mr. and Mrs. Peters were people for 
whom we had no particular friendship. We 
visited each other scarcely once a year, and had 
never reciprocated an evening to tea. True, I 
had, on the occasion of meeting Mrs. Peters, 
about a week before, while stopping in the city, 
said to her, while praising my new country home : 

" You must come and see me sometime during 
the summer." 

The invitation was intended as a compliment 
more than anything else. I didn't particularly 
care about a visit from her; and certainly had no 
idea that she would take me at my word. So 
much for insincerity. 

'^ Go down and ask them into the parlor," said 
I to Mr. Smith. "I will dress myself and join 
you in a little while." 

In about half an hour I left my room, feeling 
really quite unwell. I found my visitors walk- 
ing in the garden, and their children ranging about 
like wild colts, to the particular detriment of 
choice shrubbery and garden beds. 

" Oh, what a delightful place !" exclaimed Mrs. 
Peters, on my meeting her. " I really envy you ! 
You see that I have accepted your verj^ kind in- 
vitation. I said to my husband to-day, says I, 
wouldn't it be nice to make the Smiths a visit 
this afternoon. They live at such a convenient 
distance ; and it will be such a treat to the child- 
ren. Well, just as you like, said Mr. Peters. 
And so, as soon as dinner was over, we got ready 
and came out. Oh, I'm delighted ! What a 

e2 



62 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

sweet spot you have cliosen. I shall come and 
see you ofteu." 

And thus she run on, while I smiled, and re- 
sponded with all due politeness, and to a certain 
extent, hypocritical pretence of pleasure at the 
visit. 

They had come to spend the afternoon, and 
take tea with us, of course, and, as the last stage 
w^ent hy at seven o'clock, I was soon under the 
necessity of leaving my guests, in order to engage 
in certain preliminary acts that looked towards 
an early supper. Oh, how my head did throb ; 
and with wdiat an effort did I drag my weary feet 
about ! 

But, the longest trial — the most painful ordeal 
has an end ; and the end of this came at length. 
Our visitors, after spending a few hours, and 
being served with tea, took their departure, 
assuring us, as they did so, that they had spent 
a delightfid afternoon, and w^ould be certain to 
come again soon. 

In ten minutes after they had left the house, 
I was in bed. 

Two w^hole weeks elapsed before I succeeded 
in getting a girl ; and six times during that 
period, w^e had friends out from the city to take 
tea with us ; and one young lady spent three 
whole days ! 

When the season of fruits came, as we had a 
few apple and pear trees, besides a strawberry 
bed, and a fine row of raspberry bushes, our city 
friends, especially those who had children, were 
even more particular in their attentions. Our 
own children, we could make understand the 



LiyiNG AT A CONVENIENT DISTANCE. 63 

propriety of leaving the small fruit to be picked 
for table use, so that all could share in its enjoy- 
ment. But, visitors' children comprehended no- 
thing of this, and rifled our beds and bushes so 
constantly, that, although they would have given 
our table a fair supply of berries, in the season, 
we never once could get enough to be worth 
using, and so were forced to purchase our fruit 
in the city. 

After a destructive visitation of this nature, 
during strawberry time, I said to Mr. Smith, as 
he was leaving for the city one morning — 

'' I wish you would take a small basket with 
you, and bring out two or three quarts of straw- 
berries for tea. I've only tasted them once or 
twice, and it's hopeless to think of getting any 
from our garden." 

Well, when Mr. Smith came home with his 
two or three quarts of strawberries, we had six 
women and children, visitors from the city, to 
partake of them. Of course, our own children, 
who had been promised strawberries at tea time, 
and who had been looking for them, did'nt get a 
taste. 

And thus it happened over and over again. 

As the weather grew warmer and warmer, 
particular friends whom we were glad to see, 
and friends, so called, into whose houses we had 
rarely, if ever ventured, came out to get a 
'^ mouthful of fresh air," and to " see something 
green." We lived at "such a convenient dis- 
tance," that it was no trouble at all to run out 
paid look at us. 

Twice acrain during the summer, I was left 



G4 CONFESSIONS OF A UOUSEKEEFER. 

^vitllout a single domestic. Girls didn't like to 
leave the city, where they had been used to 
meeting their acquaintances every few days ; 
and, therefore, it was hard to retain them. So 
it went on. 

I had poor help, and was overrun with com- 
pany, at such a rate, that I was completely worn 
out. I rarely heard the rumble of the aj^proach- 
ing stage that I did not get nervous. 

Early in August, Mr. Smith said to me, oiie 
evening after returning from the cit}' — on that 
very morning, a family of four had left me, 
after staying three days — 

" I met Mr. Gray this afternoon, and he told 
me that they w^ere coming out to see you to-mor- 
row. That he was going away for a while, and his 
wife thought that it would be such a pleasant 
time to redeem her promise of making you a 
visit." 

'- Oh dear ! What next !" I exclaimed in a 
distressed Aoice. "Is there to be no end to this?" 

" Not before frost, I presume," returned Mr. 
Smith, meaningly. 

" I wdsh frost would come along quickly, 
then," was my response. " But how long is Mr. 
Gray going to be absent from home ?" 

" He didn't say." 

" And w^e're to have his whole family, I sui> 
pose, during his absence." 

" Doubtless." 

'' Well, I call that taxing hospitalit}^ and good 
feeling a little too far. I don't want them here ! 
I've no room for them without incouAxnience to 
ourselves. Besides, my help is poor." 



LIVING AT A CONVEXIENT DISTANCE. 65 

But, all my feelings of repugnance were of no 
avail. As I was sitting, on the next day, by a 
window, that overlooked the road, I saw the 
stage draw up, and issue therefrom Mr. Jones, 
Mrs. Jones, servant and ^ve children — two of 
the latter twin-babies. They had boxes, carpet 
bags, bundles, &c., indicating a prolonged sojourn, 
and one little boy dragged after him a pet dog, 
that came also to honor us with a visit. 

Down to meet them at the door, with as good 
a grace as possible, I hurried. Words of wel- 
come and pleasure were on my tongue, though I 
am not sure that my face did not belie my 
utterance. But, they were all too pleased to get 
into our snug country quarters, to perceive any 
drawback in their reception. 

I will not describe my experience during the 
next three weeks — for, Mr. Gray took the tour 
of the Lakes before returning, and was gone full 
three weeks, leaving his family to our care for 
the whole time. 

" Heaven be praised, that is over !" was my 
exclamation, when I saw the stage move off that 
bore them from our door. 

Frost at length came, and with it expired the 
visiting season. We were still at a convenient 
distance from the city; but, our friends, all at 
once, seemed to have forgotten us. 

" You are not going to move back, now," said 
a friend in surprise, to whom I mentioned in the 
following March our intention to return to the 
city. 

" Yes," I replied. 

"Just as spring is about opening? Why, 



CG CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

surely, after passing the dreary winter in the 
country, 3'ou will not come to the hot and dusty 
town to spend the summer? You are at such a 
convenient distance too; and your friends can 
visit you so easily." 

Yes, the distance was convenient ; and we had 
learned to appreciate that advantage. But back 
to the city we removed; and, when next we 
venture to the country, w^ill take good care to 
get beyond a convenient distance. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE PICKED-UP DINNER. 

It was " washing day ;" tliat day of all days 
in the week most dreaded by housekeepers. We 
had a poor breakfast^ of course. Cook had to 
help with the washing, and, as washing was the 
important thing for the day, every thing else was 
doomed to suj0fer. The wash kettle was to her 
of greater moment than the tea kettle or coffee 
pot ; and the boiling of wash water first in con- 
sideration, compared with broiling the steak. 

The breakfast bell rung nearly half an hour 
later than usual. As I entered the dining room, 
I saw that nearly every thing was in disorder, 
and that the table was little over half set. 
Scarcely had I taken my seat, ere the bell was 
in my hand. 

" There's no sugar on the table, Kitty." 

These were my words, as the girl entered, in 
obedience to my summons. 

"Oh, I forgot!" she ejaculated, and hurriedly 
supplied the deficiency. 

Ting-a-ling-a-ling, went my bell, ere she had 
reached the kitchen. 

" There's no knife and fork for the steak," said 
I, as Kitty re-appeared. 

The knife and fork were furnished, but not 
with a very amiable grace. 

(69) 



70 CONFESSIONS OF A UOUSEKEEPER. 

" What's the matter with this coffee f asked 
Mr. Smith, after sipping a spoonful or two. " It's 
got a queer taste." 

" I'm sure I don't know." 

It was i^lain that I was going to have another 
trying day ; and I began to feel a little worried. 
My reply w\as not, therefore, made in a very 
composed voice. 

Mr. Smith continued to sip his coffee with a 
spoon, and to taste the liquid doubtingly. At 
length he pushed his cu^) from him, saying : 

" It's no use ; I can't drink that ! I wish you 
would just taste it. I do believe Kitty has 
dropped a piece of soap into the coffee pot." 

By this time I had turned out a cup of the 
fluid for myself, and proceeded to try its quality. 
It certainly had a queer taste ; but, as to the 
substance to which it was indebted for its pecu- 
liar flavor, I was in total ignorance. My hus- 
band insisted that it was soap. I thought differ- 
ently; but we made no argument on the subject. 

Tiie steak was found, on trial, to be burned so 
badly that it w^as not fit to be eaten. And my 
husband had to make his meal of bread and but- 
ter and cold water. As for myself, this spoiling 
of our breakfast for no good reason, completely 
destroyed both my appetite and my temper. 

"You'd better get your dinner at an eating 
house, Mr. Smith," said I, as he arose from the 
tal:)le. "It's w^ashing day, and w^e shall have 
nothing comfortable." 

" Things will be no more comfortable for you 
than for me," was kindly replied by my hus- 
band. 



THE PICKED-UP DINNER. 71 

"We shall only have a picked-up dinner/' 
said I. 

" I like a good picked-up dinner," answered 
Mr. Smith. "There is something so out of the 
ordinary routine of ribs, loins, and sirloins — 
something so comfortable and independent about 
it. No, you ca^nnot eat your picked-up dinner 
alone." 

" Drop the word good from your description, 
and the picked-up dinner will be altogether an- 
other affair," said I. " No, don't come home to- 
day, if you please ; for every thing promises to 
be most uncomfortable. Get yourself a good 
dinner at an eating house, and leave me to go 
through the day as well as I can." 

"And you are really in earnest?" said my 
husband, seriously. 

" I certainly am," was my reply. " Entirely 
in earnest. So, just obhge me by not coming 
home to dinner." 

Mr. Smith promised ; and there was so much 
off of my mind. I could not let him come home 
without seeing that he had a good dinner. But, 
almost any thing would do for me and the chil- 
dren. 

In some things, I am compelled to say that my 
husband is a little uncertain. His memory is 
not always to be depended on. Deeply absorbed 
in business, as he was at that time, he frequently 
let things of minor importance pass from his 
thoughts altogether. 

So it happened on the present occasion. He 

forgot that it was washing day, and that he had 

promised to dine down town. Punctually at half- 

F 



72 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. ' 

past one he left his place of business, as usual, 
and took his way homeward. As he walked 
along, he met an old friend who lived in a neigh- 
boring town, and who was on a visit to our 
city. 

*' Why, Mr. Jones ! How glad I am to see 
you ! When did you arrive ?" 

And my husband grasped the hand of his 
friend eagerly. 

"Came in last evening," replied Mr. Jones. 
" How well you look, Smith ! How is your 
family ?" 

" Well — very well. When do you leave?" 

" By this afternoon's line." 

" So soon ? You make no stay at all ?" 

" I came on business, and must go back again 
with as little delay as possible." 

" Then you must go and dine with me, Jones. 
I won't take no for an answer. Want to have a 
long talk with you about old times." 

" Thank you, Mr. Smith," replied Jones. " But, 
as I don't happen to know your good lady, I 
hardly feel free to accept your invitation." 

" Don't hesitate for that. She'll be delighted 
to see you. Always glad to meet an}^ of my old 
friends. So come along. I've a dozen things to 
say to you." 

" I'm really afraid of intruding on your wife," 
said Mr. Jones, still holding back from the invi- 
tation. 

" Nonsense !" answered my husband. " My 
friends are hcr's. She will be delighted to see 
you. Tve talked of you to her a hundred times." 

At this Mr. Jones yielded. 



THE PICKED-UP DINNER. 73 



" I can't promise you any thing extra/' said 
Mr. Smith, as they walked along. " Nothing 
more than a good, plain family dinner, and a 
warm welcome." 

"All I could ask or desire," returned Mr. 
Jones. 

It was a few minutes to two o'clock. The bell 
had rung for dinner ; and I was just rising to go 
to the dining room, when I heard the street door 
open, and the sound of my husband's voice in the 
passage. There was a man in company with 
him, for I distinctly heard the tread of a pair of 
feet. What could this mean ? I remained seat- 
ed, listening with attention. 

My husband entered the parlor with his com- 
panion, talking in a cheerful, animated strain ; 
and I heard him pull up the blinds and throw 
open the shutters. Presently he came tripping 
lightly up the stairs to my sitting room. 

" I've brought a friend home to dinner, Jane," 
said he, as coolly and as confidently as if it were 
not washing day ; and as if he had not told me 
on going out, that he would dine at an eating 
house. 

This was a little too much for my patience 
and forbearance. 

" Are you beside yourself, Mr. Smith ?" I re- 
plied, my face instantly becoming flushed, and 
my eyes glancing out upon him the sudden indig- 
nation I felt at such treatment. 

" Why, Jane ! Jane ! This is not kind in 
you," said my husband, with regret and dis- 
pleasure in his voice. " It is rather hard if a 
man can't ask an old friend home to dine with 



74 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. . 

liini oiiee in five years, without asking the special 
permission of his Avife." 

" Mr. Smith ! Are you not aware that this is 
washing day ?" 

There was an instant change in my husband's 
countenance, lie seemed bewildered for a few 
moments. 

^'And, moreover," I continued, "are you not 
aware that I was to have a picked-up dinner at 
home, and that you were to dine at an eating 
house ?" 

" I declare !" Mr. Smith struck his hands to- 
gether, and turned around once upon his heel. 
— " I entirely forgot about that." 

" What's to be done ?" said I, almost crying 
with vexation. " I've nothing for dinner but 
fried ham and eggs." 

" The best we can do is the best," returned Mr. 
Smith. " You can give Mr. Jones a hearty wel- 
come, and that will compensate for any defects 
in the dinner. I forewarned him that we should 
not entertain him very sumptuously." 

"You'd better tell him the whole truth at 
once," said I, in answer to this ; " and then take 
him to an eating house." 

But my good husband would hear to nothing 
of this. He had invited his old friend to dine 
with him ; and dine he must, if it was only on 
a piece of dry bread. 

" Pick up something. Do the best you 
can," he returned. " We can wait for half an 
hour." 

" I've nothing in the house, I tell you," was 
mv answer made in no very pleasant tones ; for 



THE PICKED-UP DINNER. 75 

I felt very much irritated and outraged by my 
husband's thoughtless conduct. 

" There, there, Jane. Don't get excited about 
the matter," said he soothingly. But his words 
were not like oil to the troubled waters of my 
spirit. 

" I am excited," was my response. " How 
can I help being so ? It is too much ! You should 
have had more consideration." 

But, talking was of no use. Mr. Jones was 
in the parlor, and had come to take a family 
dinner with us. So, nothing was left but to put 
a good face on the matter; or, at least, to try 
and do so. 

" Dinner's on the table now," said I. '^ All is 
there that we can have to-day. So just invite your 
friend to the dining room, where you will find me." 

So saying, I took a little fellow by the hand, 
who always eat with us, and led him away, feel- 
ing, as my lady readers will very naturally sup- 
pose, in not the most amiable humor in the 
world. I had just got the child, who was pretty 
hungry, seated in his high chair, when ray hus- 
band and his guest made their appearance ; and 
I was introduced. 

Sorry am I to chronicle the fact — ^but truth 
compels me to make a faithful record — that my 
reception of the stranger was by no means gra- 
cious. I tried to smile ; but a smile was such a 
mockery of my real feelings, that every facial 
muscle refused to play the h} pocrite. The man 
was not welcome, and it was impossible for me 
to conceal this. 

"A plain family dinner, you see," sa,id Mr. 

f2 



76 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

Smith, as we took our places at the meagre 
board. " We are plain people. Shall I help 
you to some of the ham and eggs ?" 

He tried to smile pleasantly, and to seem very 
much at his ease. But, the attempt was far 
from successful. 

" I want some ! Don't give him all !" screamed 
out the hungry child at my side, stretching out 
his I Kinds towards the poorly supplied dish, from 
which my husband was about supplyingour guest. 

My face, which was red enough before, now 
became like scarlet. A moment longer I re- 
mained at the table, and then rising up quickly 
took the impatient child in my arms, and carried 
liim screaming from the room. I did not return 
to grace the dinner table with my unattractive 
presence. Of what passed, particularly, between 
my husband and his friend Mr. Jones, who had 
left his luxurious dinner at the hotel to enjoy 
" a plain family dinner" with his old acquain- 
tance, I never ventured to make enquiry. They 
did not remain very long at the table ; nor very 
long in the house after finishing their frugal meal. 

I have heard since that Mr. Jones has ex- 
pressed commiseration for my husband, as the 
married partner of a real termigant. I don't 
much wonder at his indifierent opinion ; for, I 
rather think I must have shown in my face 
something of the indignant fire that was in me. 

Mr. Smith, who w^as too much in the habit of 
inviting people home to take a ^'family dinner" 
with him on the spur of the moincnt, has never 
committed that error since. Ilis mortification 
was too severe to be easily foroiotten. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

WHO IS KRISS KRINGLE? 

It was the day before Christmas — always a 
day of restless, hopeful excitement among the 
children ; and my thoughts were busy, as is 
usual at this season, with little plans for increas- 
ing the gladness of my happy household. The 
name of the good genius who presides over toj'S 
and sugar plums was often on my lips, but oftener 
on the lips of the children. 

'^ Who is Kriss Kringle, mamma ?" asked a 
pair of rosy lips, close to my ear, as I stood at 
the kitchen table, rolling out and cutting cakes. 

I turned at the question, and met the earnest 
gaze of a couple of bright eyes, the roguish 
owner of which had climbed into a chairr for the 
purpose of taking note of my doings. 

I kissed the sweet lips, but did not answer. 

" Say, mamma ? Who is Kriss Kringle ?" per- 
severed the little one. 

" Why, don't you know ?" said I, smiling. 

" No, mamma. \Yho is he ?" 

" Why, he is — he is — Kriss Kringle." 

" Oh, mamma ! Say, won't you tell me ?" 

" Ask papa when he comes home," I returned, 
evasivelv. 

I never like deceiving children in any thing. 
And yet, Christmas after Christmas, I have im- 

(77) 



78 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

posed on tliein the pleasant fiction of Kriss Krin- 
gle, without suflering very severe pangs of con- 
science. Dear little creatures ! how I'ully they 
beHe\'ed, at ^rst, the story; how soberly and 
confidingly they hung their stockings in the 
chimney corner ; with what faith and joy did 
they receive their many gifts on the never-to-he- 
forgotten Christmas morning ! 

Yes, it is a pleasant fiction ; and if there be 
in it a leaven of wrong, it is indeed a small por- 
tion. 

" But why won't you tell me, mamma?" per- 
sisted my little interrogator. " Don't you know 
Kriss Kringle ?" 

" I never saw him, dear," said I. 

" Has papa seen him ?" 

" Ask him when he comes home." 

" I wnsh Krissy would bring me, Oh, such an 
elegant carriage and four horses, with a driver 
that could get down and go up again." 

"If I see him. 111 tell him to bring you just 
such a nice carriage." 

" And will he do it, mamma ?" The dear child 
clapped his hands together with delight. 

" I guess so." 

"- 1 wish I could see him," he said, more sober- 
ly and thoughtfully. And then, as if some new 
impression had crossed his mind, he hastened 
down from the chair, and went gliding from the 
room. 

Half an hour afterwards, as I came into the 
nursery, I saw my three " olive branches," clus- 
tered together in a corner, holding grave counsel 
on some subject of importance ; at least to them- 



WHO IS KRISS KRINGLE? 79 

selves. They became silent at my presence ; but 
soon began to talk aloud. I listened to a few 
words, but perceived nothing of particular con- 
cern ; then turned my thoughts away. 

" Who is Kriss Kringie, papa ?" I heard my 
cherry-lipped boy asking of Mr. Smith, soon after 
he came home in the evening. 

The answer I did not hear. Enough that the 
enquirer did not appear satisfied therewith. 

At tea-time, the children were not in very good 
appetite, though in fine spirits. 

As soon as the evening meal was over, Mr. 
Smith went out to buy presents for our little ones, 
while I took upon myself the task of getting 
them off early to bed. 

A Christmas tree had been obtained during the 
day, and it stood in one of the parlors, on a table. 
Into this parlor the good genius was to descend 
during the night, and hang on the branches of 
the tree, or leave upon the table, his gifts for the 
children. This was our arrangement. The lit- 
tle ones expressed some doubts as to whether 
Kriss Kringle would come to this particular 
room ; and little " cherry lips" couldn't just see 
how the genius was going to get down the chim- 
ney, when the fire-place was closed up. 

" Never mind, love ; Kriss will find his way 
here," was my answer to all objections. 

" But how do you know, mother ? Have you 
sent him word ?" 

" Oh, I know." 

Thus I put aside their enquiries, and hurried 
them off to bed 

" Now go to sleep right quickly," said I, after 



80 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSEKEF.PEi:. 

thev were snugly under their warm blankets and 
comforts ; " and to-morrow morning be up bright 
and early." 

And so I left them to their peaceful slumbers. 

An hour it was, or more, ere Mr. Smith re- 
turned, with his pockets well laden. I was in 
the parlor, where we had placed the Christmas 
tree, engaged in decorating it with rosettes, sugar 
toys, and the like. At this work I had been 
some fifteen or twenty minutes, and had, I will 
own, become a little nervous. My domestic had 
irone out, and I was alone in the house. Once 
or twice, as I sat in the silent room, I imagined 
that I heard a movement in the one adjoining. 
And several times I was sure tliat my ear de- 
tected something like the smothered breatJiing 
of a man. 

"All imagination," said I to myself. But 
again and again the same sounds stirred upon 
the silent air. 

" Could there be a robber concealed in the next 
room i 

The thought made me shudder. I was afraid 
to move from where I sat. What a relief when 
I heard my husband's key in the door, followed 
by the soimd of his well known tread in the pas- 
sage ! My fears vanished in a moment. 

As Mr. Smith stood near me, in the act of un- 
loading his pockets, he bent close to my ear and 
whispered : 

•' Will is under the table. I caught a glance 
of his bright eyes, just now." 

"What!" ^ . 

" It's true. And the other little rogues are in 



■\7H0 IS KEISS KRINGLE? 81 

the next room, peeping through the door, at this 
very moment." 

I was silent with surprise. 

" They're determined to know who Kriss Krin- 
gle is," added my husband ; then speaking aloud, 
he said : 

" Come, dear, I want to show you something 
up in the dining-room." 

I understood Mr. Smith, and arose up instant- 
ly, not so much as glancing towards the partly^- 
ojDened folding door. 

We were hardly in the dining room before we 
heard the light pattering of feet, and low, smoth- 
ered tittering on the stairway. Then all was 
still, and we descended to the parlors again, quite 
as much pleased with what had occurred as the 
little rogues were t|iemselves. 

" I declare ! Really, I thought them all sound 
asleep an hour ago," said I, on resuming my 
work of decorating the Christmas tree. " Who 
could have believed them cunning enough for 
this ? It's all Will's doings. He'll get through 
the world." 

" Aye will he," returned Mr. Smith. " Oh ! if 
you could have seen his face as I saw it, just 
peering from under the table cloth, his eyes as 
1)right as stars, and full of merriment and de- 
light." 

" Bless his heart ! He's a dear little fellow 1" 

How could I help saying this ? 

" And the others ! You lost half the pleasure 
of the whole affair by not seeing them." 

" We shall have a frolic with the rogues to- 
fQorrow morning. I can see the triumph on 



82 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. * 

Will's fiice. I understand now what all their 
whisperings meant this afternoon. They were 
concocting this plan. I couldn't have helieved 
it of them V" 

'^ Children are curious bodies," said Mr. Smith. 

" I thought I heard some one in the next 
room," I remarked, " while you were out, and 
became really nervous for a while. I heard the 
breathing of some one near me, also ; but tried 
to argue myself into the belief that it was only 
imagination." 

Thus we conned over the little incident, while 
we arranged the children's toys. 

'' I know who Kriss Kringle is ! I know !" 
was the triumphant affirmation of one and an- 
other of the children, as we gathered at the 
breakfast table next morning. 

" Do you, indeed ?" said I, trying to look grave. 

'^ Yes ; it is papa." 

" Papa, Kriss Kringle ! How can that be ?" 

" Oh, we know ! We found out !" 

" Indeed !" 

And w^e made, of course, a great wonder of 
this assertion. The merry elves ! What a hap 
py Christmas it was for them. Ever since, they 
have dated from the time when they found out 
who Kriss Kringle was. It is all to no purpose 
that we pleasantly suggest the possibility of their 
having dreamed of what they allege to have oc- 
curred under their actual vision ; they have re- 
corded it in their memories, and refer to it as a 
veritable fact. 

Dear children ! How little the}^ really ask of 
us, to make them happy. Did we give them but 



WHO IS KRISS KRINGLE? 83 

a twentieth part of the time we devote to busi- 
ness^ care, and pleasure, how greatly would we 
promote their good, and increase the measure of 
their enjoyment. Not alone at Christmas time, 
but all the year should we remember and care 
for their pleasures ; for, the state of innocent 
pleasure, in children, is one in which good affec- 
tions are implanted, and these take root and 
grow, and produce fruit in after life. 



CHAPTER IX. 

NOT AT HOME. 

Never but once did I venture upon the utter- 
ance of that little white lie, " Not at home," and 
then I was well punished for my weakness and 
folly. It occurred at a time when there were in 
my iamily two new inmates : a niece from New 
York, and a raw Irish girl that I had taken a 
few days before, on trial. 

My niece, Agnes, was a young lady in her 
nineteenth year, the daughter of my brother. I 
had not seen her before since her school-girl 
days ; and knew little of her character. Her 
mother I had always esteemed as a right-think- 
ing, true-hearted woman. I was much pleased 
to iiave a visit from Agnes, and felt drawn toward 
her more and more every day. There was some- 
thing pure and good about her. 

" Now, Aggy, dear," said I to her, one morn- 
ing after breakfast, as we took our work and re- 
tired from the dining-room to one of the parlors, 
where I was occasionally in the habit of sitting, 
— '• we must sew for dear life until dinner time, 
so as to fmisli these two frocks for the children 
to wear this evening. It isn't right, I know, to 
impose on you in this way. But you sew so 
quick and neatly; and then it will help me 
(S4) 



NOT AT HOME. 87. 

through, a.nd leave me free to visit Girard Col- 
lege with jou this afternoon." 

" Don't speak of it, aunt," returned Agnes. — 
'' I'm never happier than when employed. And, 
besides, it's only fair that I should sew for you 
ill the morning, if you are to go pleasuring with 
me in the afternoon." 

Lightly the hours flew by, passed in cheerful; 
conversation. I found that the mind of my 
niece had been highly cultivated ; that her tastes 
were refined, and her moral sense acute. To say 
that I was pleased with her, would but half ex- 
press what I felt. 

There was to be a. juvenile party at the house 
of one of our acquaintances that evening, to 
Avhich the children were invited ; and we were at 
work in preparing di'esses and other matters 
suitable for them to appear in. 

Twelve o'clock came very quickly — too quickly 
for me, in fact ; for I had not accomplished near 
so much as I had hoped to do. It would require 
the most diligent application, through every mo- 
ment of time that intervened until the dinner 
hour, for. us to get through with what we were 
doing, so as to have the. afternoon to ourselves 
for the intended excursion. 

As the clock rung out the hour of noon, I ex- 
claimed : 

"Is it possible ! I had no idea that it 
was so late. How slowly I do seem to get 
along 1" 

Just at this moment the bell rung. 

" Bless me ! I hope we are not to have visitors 
this morning," said I, as I let my hands fall in 



88 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

iTiy lap. I thought hurriedly for a moment, and 
then remarked, in a decided way : 

" Of course we cannot see any one. We are 
engaged." 

By this time I heard the footsteps of Mary 
on her way from the kitchen, and 1 very natu- 
rally passed quickly to the parlor door to mter- 
cept and give her my instructions. 

'' Say that Tm engaged," was on my tongue. 
But, somehow or other, I had not the courage to 
give these words utterance. The visitor might 
be a person to whom such an excuse for not 
appearing would seem unkind, or be an offence. 
In this uncertain state, my mind fell into confu- 
sion. Mary was before me, and awaiting the 
direction she saw that I was about giving. 

" Say that I'm not at home, if any one asks 
to see me," came in a sudden impulse from my 
lips. 

And then my cheeks flushed to think that I 
had instructed my servant to give utterance to 
a falsehood. 

" Yes, mim," answered the girl, glancing into 
my face with a knowing leer, that produced an 
instant sense of humiliation ; and away she went 
to do my bidding. 

I did not glance towards Agnes, as I returned 
to my seat and took up my work. I had not 
the courage to do this. That I had lowered 
myself in her estimation, I felt certain. 

I heard the street door open, and bent, invol- 
untarily, in a Hstening attitude. The voice of a 
lady uttered my name. 

'' She's not at home, mim," came distinctly on 



NOT AT HOME. 89 

my ears, causing the flush on my cheeks to be- 
come still deeper. 

A murmur of voices followed. Then I heard 
the closing of the vestibule door, and Mary re- 
turning to the back parlor where we were sitting. 

" Who was it, Mary ?" I enquired, as the girl 
entered. 

" Mrs. — Mrs.— Now what was it ? Sure, and 
I've forgotten their names intirely." 

But, lack of memory did not long keep me in 
ignorance as to who were my visitors, for, as ill 
luck would have it, they had bethought them- 
selves of some message they wished to leave, 
arid, re-opening the vestibule door, left a-jar by 
Mary, followed her along the passage to the room 
they saw her enter. As they pushed open the 
door of the parlor, Mary heard them, and, turn- 
ing quickly, exclaimed, in consternation — 

" Och, murther !" 

A moment she stood, confronting, in no very 
graceful attitude, a couple of ladies, and then 
escaped to the kitchen. 

Here was a scene of embarrassment. Not 
among all my acquaintances were there, perhaps, 
two persons, whom I would have least desired 
to witness in me such a fault as the one of which 
I had been guilty. For a little while, I knew 
not what to say. I sat, overcome with mortifi- 
cation. At length, I arose, and said with an 
effort, 

" Walk in, ladies ! How are you this morn- 
ing ? I'm pleased to see you. Take chairs. My 
niece, Mrs. Williams, and Mrs. Glenn. I hope 

you will excuse us. We were — " 

g2 ^ ~ 



90 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

. " Oil, no apologies, Mrs. Smith," returned one 
of the ladies, with a quiet smile, and an air of 
self-possession. "Pardon this intrusion. We un- 
derstood the servant that you were not at home." 

" Engaged, she meant," said I, a deeper crim- 
son suffusing my face. " The fact is, we are 
working for dear life, to get the children ready 
for a party to night, and wished to be excused 
iVom seeing any one." 

"Certainly — all right," returned Mrs. Wil- 
liams, "' I merely came in to say to your domes- 
tic (1 had forgotten it at the door) that my 
sister expected to leave for her home in New 
York in a day or tw^o, and would call here with 
me, to-morrow afternoon." 

" I shall be very happy to see her," said I, — 
" very happy. Do come in and sit dow^n for a 
little while. If I had only know^n it was you." 

Now that last sentence, spoken in embarrass- 
ment and mental confusion, was only making 
matters worse. It placed me in a false and des- 
picable light before my visitors; for in it was 
the savor of hypocrisy, which is foreign to my 
nature. 

" No, thank you," replied my visitors. " Good 
I" 

And they retired, leaving me so overcome 
w'ith shame, mortification, confusion, and distress, 
that I burst into tears. 

" To think that / sliould have done such a 
thing!" w^as my first remark, so soon as I had a 
little recovered my self-possession ; and I looked 
up, half timidly, into the face of my niece. I 
shall not soon forget the expression of surprise 



mornnig 



NOT AT HOME. 91 

and pain that was in her fair young countenance. 
I had uttered a falsehood in her presence, and 
thus done violence to the good opinion she had 
formed of me. The beautiful ideal of her aunt, 
which had filled her mind, was blurred over; 
and her heart was sad in consequence. 

" Dear Aggy !" said I, throwing my work upon 
the floor, and bending earnestly towards her. — 
" Don't think too meanly of me for this little 
circumstance. I never was guilty of that thing 
before — never ! And well have I been punished 
for my thoughtless folly I spoke from impulse, 
^nd not reflection, when I told Mary to say that 
I was not at home, and repented of what I had 
done almost as soon as the words passed my lips." 

Agnes looked at me for some moments, until 
her eyes filled with tears. Then she said in a 
low, sweet, earnest voice : 

" Mother always says, if she cannot see any 
one who calls, that she is engaged." 

" And so do I, dear," I returned. " This is my 
first offence against truth, and you may be sure 
that it will be the last." 

And it was mv last. 

When next I met Mrs. Williams and Mrs. 
Glenn, there was, in both of them, a reserve not 
seen before. I felt this change keenly. I had 
wronged myself in their good opinion ; and could 
not venture upon an explanation of my conduct ; 
for that, I felt, might only make matters worse. 

How often, since, has my cheek burned, as a 
vivid recollection came up before my mind ol 
what occurred on that morning ! I can never 
fors'et it. 



CHAPTER X. 

SHIRT BUTTONS. 

In a previous chapter, I gave tlie reader one 
of the Experiences of my sister s husband, Mr. 
John Jones. I now give another. 

There was a time in my married Ufe, (thus 
Mr. Jones writes in one of his " Confessions,") 
^v\\Qn 1 was less annoj^ed if my bosom or wrist- 
band happened to be minus a button, than I am 
at present. But continual dropping will wear 
away a stone, and the ever recurring buttonless 
collar or wristband will wear out a man's pa- 
tience, be he naturally as enduring as the Man 
of Uz. 

I don't mean by this, that Mrs. Jones is a ne- 
glectful woman. Oh, no ! don't let that be im- 
agined for a moment. Mrs. Jones is a woman 
who has an eye for shirt buttons, and when that 
is said, a volume is told in a few words. 

But I don't care how careful a wife is, nor how 
good an eye she may have for shirt buttons, 
there will come a time, when, from some cause 
or other, she will momentarily abate her vigi- 
lance, and that will be the very time when Bet- 
ty's washing-board, or Nancy's sad-iron, has been 
at work upon the buttons. 

For a year or two after our marriage, I used 
to express impatience, whenever, in putting on 
(1)2} 



SHIKT BUTTONS. 93 

a clean shirt, I foiincl a button gone. Mrs. Jones 
bore this for a v/hile without exhibiting much 
feeling. But it fretted her more than she per- 
mitted any one to see. At length, the constant 
recurrence of the evil — I didn't know as much 
then as I do now — annoyed me so that I passed 
from ejaculatory expressions of impatience into 
more decided and emphatic disapprobation, and to 

" Psha !" and " there it is again !" and the like 
w^ere added: 

'^ I declare, Mrs. Jones, this is too bad !" or 

'^ I've given up hoping for a shirt with a full 
complement of buttons — " or 

" If you can't sew the buttons on my shirt, 
Mrs. Jones, I will hire some one to do it." 

This last expression of displeasure I never 
ventured upon but once. I have always felt 
ashamed of it since, whenever a recollection of 
my unreasonableness and impatience in the early 
times of the shirt button trouble has crossed my 
mind. My wife took it so much to heart, and so 
earnestly avowed her constant solicitude in re- 
gard to the shirt buttons, that I resolved from 
that time, to bear the evil like a man, and 
instead of grumbling or complaining, make known 
the fact of a deficiency whenever it occurred, as 
a good joke. And so for a year or so it used to 
be when the buttons were missing : 

'' Buttons again, Mrs. Jones ;" or 

" D'ye see that T or 

" Here's the old story"- — 

Always said laughingly, and varied as to the 
mood or "fertility of fancy. But on so. grave a 
subject as shirt buttons, Mrs. Jones had no heart 



94 co^^fEssiu^'s of a uousekeeper. 

for a joke. The fact that her vigihince had 
proved all in \a\n, and that, spite of constant 
care, a shirt had found its way into my drawer, 
lackhig its full complement of buttons, was some- 
thing too serious lor a smile or a jest, and my 
words, no matter how lightly spoken, would be 
felt as a reproof. Any allusion, therefore, to 
shirt buttons, was sure to produce a cloud upon 
the otherwise calm brow of Mrs. Jones. It was 
a sore subject, and could not be touched even 
by the liglit end of a feather without producing 
pain. 

What was I to do ? Put oiT with the lack oi" 
a shirt button uncomplainingly ? Pin my collar, 
if the little circular piece of bone or 'ivory were 
gone, and not hint at the omission? Yes ; I re- 
solved not to say a word more about shirt but- 
tons, but to bear the evil, Avhenever it occurred,, 
with the patience of a martyr. Many days had 
not passed after this resolution was taken, before, 
on changing my linen one morning, I found that 
there was a button less than the usual number 
on the bosom of my shirt. Mrs. Jones had been 
up on the evening before, half an hour after I 
was in bed, looking over my shirts, to see if 
every thing was in order. But even her sharp 
eyes had failed to discover the place left vacant 
by a deserting member of the shirt button fra- 
ternity. I knew she had done her best, and 1 
pitied, rather than blamed her, for I wiis sensi- 
ble that a knowledge of the flict which had just 
come to light would trouble her a thousand times 
more than it did me. 

The breakfast hour passed without a discovery 



SHIRT BUTTONS. '95 

by Mrs. Jones of the flict that there was a button 
off of the bosom of my shirt. But, when I 
came in at dinner time, her first words, looking 
at me, were : " Why, Mr. Jones, there's a button 
off your bosom." 

" I know," said I, indifferently. " It was off 
when I put the shirt on this morning. But it 
makes no difference — you can sew it on when the 
shirt next comes from the wash."- 

I was really sincere in what I said, and took 
some merit to myself for being as composed as I 
was on so agitating a subject. Judge of my sur- 
prise, then, to hear Mrs. Jones exclaim, with a 
flushed face, " Indeed, Mr. Jones, this is too 
much ! no difference, indeed ? A nice opinion 
people must have had of your wife, to see you 
going about with your bosom all gaping open in 
that style ?" 

" Nobody noticed it," said I in reply. " Don't 
you see that the edges lie perfectly smooth to- 
gether, as much so as if held by a button ?" 

But it was no use to say anything; Mrs. Jones 
was hurt at my not speaking of the button. 

" I'm sure," she said, " that I am always readv 
to do any thing for you. I never complain about 
sewing on your buttons." 

" Nonsense, Mrs. Jones ! don't take it so much 
to heart," I replied ; '' here, get your needle and 
thread, and you can have it all right in a minute. 
It's but a trifle — I'm sure I havn't thought about 
it since I put on the shirt this morning." 

But all would not do — Mrs. Jones' grief was 
too real ; and when I, losing to some extent, my 
patience, said fretfully, " I y/ish somebody would 



90 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSEKEKPER. ' 

invent a shirt without buttons," she sighed deep- 
ly, and in a little Avhile I saw her handkerchief 
go quietly to her eyes. Again and again I tried 
the say-notlmig plane 5 l)Lit it worked worse, if 
any thing, than the other; for Mrs. Jones was 
sure to find out the truth, and then she would 
be dreadfully hurt about my omission to speak. 

And so the years have passed. Sometimes L 
fret a little when I find a shirt button off; some- 
times I ask mildly to have the omission supplied 
when I discover its existence ; sometimes I jest 
about it, and sometimes I bear the evil in silence. 
But the effects produced upon Mrs. Jones are 
about tlie same. Her equanimity of mind is dis- 
turbed, and she will look unhappy for hours. 
Never but once have I complained without a 
cause. But that one instance gave Mrs. Jones a 
triumph which has done much to sustain her in 
all her subsequent trials. 

We had some friends staying vrith us, and 
among the various matters of discussion that 
came up during the social evenings we spent to- 
gether, shirt buttons were, on one occasion, con- 
spicuous. To record all that was said about 
them would fill pages, and I will not, therefore, 
attempt even a brief record of all the allegations 
brou2:ht ai};ainst the useful little shirt button. 
The tinal decision was, that it must be the Apple 
of Discord in disguise. 

" A button off, as usual !" I muttered to myself 
the next morning, as I put on a clean shirt. Mrs. 
Jones had risen half an hour before me, and was 
down stairs giving some directions about break- 
fast, so that 1 could not ask to have it sewed on. 



SHIRT BUTTONS. 97 

And after leaving my room, I thought it as well 
not to say any thing about it. In due time we 
gathered with our friends around the breakfast 
table. A sight of them reminded me of the con- 
versation the previous evening, and I felt an 
irresistible desire to allude to the missing shirt 
button as quite an apropos and amusing incident. 
So, speaking from the impulse of the moment, I 
said, glancing first at Mrs. Jones, then around 
the table, and then pointing down at my bosom, 
" The old story of shirt buttons again !" 

Instantly the color mounted to the cheeks and 
brow of Mrs. Jones ; then the color as quickly 
melted away, and a look of triumph passed over 
her face. She pushed back her chair quickl}^, 
and rising up, came round to where I sat, took 
hold of the button I had failed to see, and hold- 
ing it between her j&ngers, said, "Oh, yes, this 
is the old story, Mr. Jones !" 

I drew down my chin so as to get a low angle 
of vision, and sure enough, the button Avas there. 
A burst of laughter went around the table, in 
which Mrs. Jones most heartily joined ; and I 
laughed, too, as glad as she was, that the joke was 
all on her side. I have never, you may be sure, 
heard the last of this ; but it was a lucky inci- 
dent, for it has given Mrs. Jones something to fall 
back upon, and have her jest occasionally, when- 
ever I happen to discover that a button is among 
the misskig, and that she can, even at times, find 
it in her heart to jest on such a subject, is, I can 
assure you, a great gain. So much for shirt but- 
tons. I could say a great deal more, for the sub- 
ject is inexhaustible. But I will forbear. 

H 



CHAPTEK XL 

PAVEMENT WASHING IN WINTER. 

Two weeks of spring-like weather in mid-win- 
ter, and then the thermometer went hurrying 
down towards zero with alarming rapidity. Eve- 
ning closed in with a temperature so mild that 
lires were permitted to expire in the ashes ; and 
morning broke with a cold nor-wester, whistling 
through every crack and cranny, m a tone that 
made you shrink and shivdr. 

" Winter at last," said I, creeping forth from 
my warm bed, with a very natural feeling of 
reluctance. 

" Time," was the half asleep and half awake 
response of Mr. Smith, as he drew the clothes 
about his shoulders, and turned himself over for 
the enjoyment of his usual half hour morning nap. 

It was Saturday — that busiest day in the 
seven ; at least for housekeepers — and as late as 
half past seven o'clock, yet the house felt as cold 
as a barn. I stepped to the register to ascertain 
if the fire had been made in the heater. Against 
my liand came a pressure of air — cold air. 

" Too bad !" I murmured fretfully, " that girl 
has never touched the fire." 

So I gave the bell a pretty vigorous jerk. In 
a few minutes up eaine Nancy, the cook, in 
answer to my summons. 
(98) 




.l.rfC 



% \ 



PAVEMENT WASHING IN WINTER. 101 

'^Yfhy hasn't Biddy made the fire in the 
heater ?" I asked. 

'• She has made it, mum." 

" There isn't a particle of heat coming up." 

" I heard her at work down there. I guess 
she's made it up, but it hasn't began to burn 
good yet." 

" Tell her that I want her." 

" She's washing the pavement, mum." 

" Washing the pavement !" 

" Yes, mum." 

" What possessed her to wash the pavement 
on a day like this ?" 

" It's the right day, mum. It's Saturday." 

" Saturday ! Don't she know that the water 
will freeze almost as soon as it touches the 
ground ? Go and tell her to come in this minute, 
and not throw another drop on the pavement." 

Nancy withdrew, and I kept on speaking to 
myself — 

" I never saw such creatures. No considera- 
tion in them ! Washing the pavement on a morn- 
ing like this ! Little do they care who falls on 

the ice ; or who has a broken arm, or a broken 
leer" 

Just as I had said this, I heard a crash, and 
an exclamation without, and hurrying to the 
window looked forth. Biddy's work was done-, 
and well done, for the pavement was one sheet 
of ice, as hard and smooth as glass, and as slip- 
pery as oil. Prostrate thereon was a grocer's 
bay, and just beyond the curb stone, in the gut- 
ter, lay the fragments of a jug of molasses. 

Stepping back quickly to where the bell rope 



ing ( 



102 COKFESSIOXS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

hung against the Arall, I gave it a most deter- 
mined jerk. Scarcely had I done this, ere the 
door of the adjoining room, which was used as a 
nursery, opened, and Biddy appeared therein. 

"Why, Biddy!" I exclaimed, "what possessed 
you to throw water on the pavement this morn- 
?" 

" Faix! And how was I to get it clane, mim, 
w^idout wather ?" coolly returned Biddy. 

" Clean !" 

" Yes, mim, clane." 

" There was no crying necessity to have it 
clean to-day. Didn't you see — 

" It's vSathurday, mim," interrupted Biddy, in 
a voice that showed the argument in her mind 
to be unanswerable. We always wash the pave- 
ment on Sathurday." 

" But it doesn't do to wash the pavement, I 
returned, now trying to put a little reason into 
her head, " when it is so cold that water will 
freeze as soon as it touches the ground. The 
bricks become as slippery as glass, and people 
can't walk on them without falling." 

" Och ! And what hev we till do wid the paple. 
Lot 'em look 'till their steps." 

" But, Biddy, that won't do. People don't ex- 
pect to find j)avements like glass ; and they slip, 
often, while unaware of danger. Just at this 
moment a poor lad fell, and broke his jug all to 
pieces." 

" Did he ! And less the pity for him. Wliy 
did'nt he walk along like an orderly, dacent 
body? Why didn't he look 'till his steps?" 

" Biddy," said I, seeing that it was useless to 



PAVEMENT WASHING IN WINTER. 103 

hold an argument with her, — " Do you go this 
minute and throw ashes all over the j^avement." 

" Ashes on the clane pavement ! Mrs. Smith !" 

" Yes, Biddy ; and do it at once. There ! 
Somebody else has fallen." 

I sprung to the window in time to see a woman 
on the pavement, and the contents of her basket 
of marketing scattered all around her. 

" Go this minute and throw ashes over the 
pavement!" I called to Biddy in a voice of com- 
mand. 

The girl left the room with evident reluctance. 
The idea of scattering ashes over her clean pave- 
ment, v/as, to her, no very pleasant one. 

It seemed to me, as I sat looking down from 
my windows upon the slippery flags, and noted 
the difficulty which pedestrians had to cross them 
safely, that Biddy would never appear with her 
pan of ashes. 

'' Why don't the girl do as I directed ?" had 
just passed, in an impatient tone, from my lips, 
when two well dressed men came in view, one at 
each exteremity of the sheet of ice. They w^ere 
approaching, and stepped with evident uncon- 
sciousness of danger, upon the treacherous sur- 
face. I had a kind of presentiment that one or 
both would fall, and my instinct was not at fault. 
Suddenly the heels of one flew up, and he struck 
the pavement with a concussion that sprung his 
hat from his head, and sent it some feet in the 
air. In his efibrts to recover himself^ his legs 
became entangled in those of the other, and over 
he went, backwards, his head striking the ground 
with a terrible shock. 

h2 



104 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

I started from the window, feeling, for an in- 
stant, faint and sick. In a few moments I re- 
turned, and looked ont again. Both the fallen 
ones liad regained their feet, and passed out of 
sight, and JJiddy, who had witnessed the last 
scene in this half comic, half tragic performance, 
was giving the pavement a plentiful coating of 
aslies and cinders. 

I may he permitted to remark, that I trust 
other housekeepers, wdiose pavements are washed 
on cold mornings — and their name, I had almost 
said, is legion — are as innocent as I was in the 
above case, and that the wrong to pedestrians 
lies at the door of thoughtless servants. But is 
it not our duty to see the w^roug has no further 
repetition ? 

It has been remarked that the residence of a 
truly humane man may be known by the ashes 
before his door on a slippery morning. If this be 
so, what are we to think of those who coolly sup- 
ply a sheet of ice to the side walk? 



CHAPTER XII. 

REGARD FOR THE POOR. 

We sometimes get^ by chance, as it were, 
glimpses of life altogether new, yet full of in- 
struction. I once had such a glimpse, and, at 
the time, put it upon record as a lesson for my- 
self as well as others. Its introduction into this 
series of " Confessions" will be quite in place. 

" How many children have you ?" I asked of a 
poor woman, one day, who, with her tray of fish 
on her head, stopped at my door with the hope 
of finding a customer. 

" Four," she replied. 

"All vounsT?" 

"Yes ma'am. The oldest is but seven years 
of age." 

" Have you a husband ?" I enquired. 

The woman replied in a changed voice : 

" Yes, ma'am. But he isn't much help to me. 
Like a great many other men, he drinks too 
much. If it wasn't for that, you wouldn't find 
me crying fish about the streets in the spring, 
and berries through the summer, to get bread 
for my children. He could support us all com- 
fortably, if he was only sober; for he has a 
good trade, and is a good workman. He used 
to earn ten and sometimes twelve dollars a 
week." 

(105) 



lOG CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

" ITow much do you make towards supporting 
your family V I asked. 

" Nearly all they get to live on, and that isn't 
much," she said bitterly. " My husband some- 
times pays the rent, and sometimes he doesn't 
even do that. I have made as high as four dol- 
hxrs in a week, but oftener two or three is the 
most I get." 

*' How in the world can you support yourself, 
husband, and four children on three dollars a 
week ?" 

" I have to do it," was her simple reply. 
" There are women who would be glad to get 
three dollars a week, and think themselves well 
off." 

" But how do you live on so small a sum ?" 

'• We have to deny ourselves almost every little 
comfort, and confine ourselves down to the mere 
necessaries of life. After those who can afford 
to pay good prices for their marketing have been 
supplied, w^e come in for a part of what remains. 
I often get meat enough for a few cents to last 
me for several days. And its the same way with 
vegetables. After the markets are ovot, the 
butchers and country people, wdiom we know, 
let us have lots of things for almost nothing, 
sooner than take them home. In this way we 
make our slender means go a great deal farther 
than they w^ould if we had to pay the highest 
market price for every thing. But, it often hap- 
pens that what we gain here is lost in the eager- 
ness we feel to sell whatever we have, especially 
when, from having w^alked and cried for a long 
time, we become much fatigued. Almost every 



REGARD FOR THE POOR. 107 

one complains that we ask too macii for our 
things, if we happen to be one or t^yo cents above 
what somebody has paid in market, where there 
are almost as many different prices as there are 
persons who sell. And in consequence, almost 
every one tries to beat us down. 

" It often happens that, after I have walked 
for hours and sold but very little, I have parted 
with my whole stock at cost .to some tv/o or 
three ladies, who would not have bought from 
me at all if they hadn't known that they 
were making good bargains out of me ; and this 
because I could not bear up any longer. I think 
it very hard, sometimes, w^hen ladies, who have 
every thing in plenty, take off nearly all my 
profits, after I have toiled through the hot sun 
for hours, or shivered in the cold of winter. It 
is no doubt right enough for every one to be 
prudent, and buy things as low as possible ; but 
it has never seemed to me as quite just for a 
rich lady to beat down a poor fish-woman, or 
strawberrj^-woman, a cent or two on a bunch or 
basket, when that very cent made, perhaps, one- 
third, or one-half of her profits. 

" It was only yesterday that I stopped at a 
house to sell a bunch of fish. The lady took a 
fancy to a nice bunch of small rock, for which I 
asked her twenty cents. They had cost me just 
sixteen cents. ' Won't you take three fips ?' 
she asked. ' That leaves me too small a profit, 
madam,' I replied. ' You want too much profit,' 
she returned ; ' I saw just such a bunch of fish 
in market yesterday for three fips.' ' Yes, but 
remember,' I replied, ' that here are the fish at 



108 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

your door. You noiUier have to send for them 
nor to bring them home yourself/ ' Oh, as to 
that,' she answered, ' I have a waiter whose - 
business it is to carry the marketing. It is all 
the same to me. So, if you expect to sell me 
your things, you must do it at the market prices. 
1 will give you three fips for that launch of fish, 
and no more.' I had walked a great deal, and 
sold but little. I w as tired, and half sick with a 
dreadful headache. It was time for me to think 
about getting home. So I said, ' Well, ma am, 
I suppose you must take them, but it leaves 
me only a mere trifle for my profit.' A servant 
standing by took the fish, and the lady handed 
me a quarter, and held out her hand for the 
change. I first put into it a five cent piece. She 
continued holding it out, until I searched about 
in my pocket for a penny. This I Jiext placed 
in her hand. ' So you've cheated me out of a 
cent at last,' she said, half laughing and half in 
earnest ; ' you are a sad rogue.' A little boy 
was standing by. ' Here, Charley,' she said to 
him, 'is a penny I have just saved. You can 
buy a candy with it.' 

As I turned away from the door of the large, 
beautiful house in which that lady lived, I lelt 
something rising in my throat and choking me ; 
I had bitter thoughts of all my kind. 

" Happily, w^here I next stopped, I met with 
one more considerate. She bought two bunches 
of my fish at my ow^n price — sj)oke very kindly 
to me, and even w^ent so tar, seeing that 1 looked 
jaded out, to tell me to go down into her kitchen 
and rest mvself for a little while. 



REGARD FOR THE POOR. 109 

Leaving my tub of fish in her yard, I accept- 
ed the kind oiFer. It so happened that the cook 
was making tea for some one in the house who 
was sick. The lady asked me if I would not 
like to have a cup. I said yes ; for my head 
was aching badly, and I felt faint ; and besides, 
I had not tasted a cup of tea for several days. 
She poured it out with her own hands, and with 
her own hands brought it to me. I think I never 
tasted such a cup of tea in my life. It was like 
cordial. God bless her ! — When I again went 
out upon the street my headache was gone, and 
I felt as fresh as ever I did in my life. Before I 
stopped at this kind lady's house, I was so worn 
down and out of heart, that I determined to go 
home, even though not more than half my fish 
were sold. But now I went on cheerful and with 
confidence. In an hour my tray was empty, and 
my fish sold at fair prices. 

*' You do not know, madam," continued the 
woman, "how much good a few kindly spoken 
words, that cost nothing, or a little generous re- 
gard for us, does our often discouraged hearts. 
But these we too rarely meet. Much oftener we 
are talked to harshly about our exorbitant prices 
— called a cheating set — or some such name that 
does not sound very pleasant to our ears. That 
there are many among us who have no honesty, 
nor, indeed, any care about what is right, is too 
true. But all are not so. To judge us all, then, 
by the worst of our class, is not right. It would 
not be well for the world if all were thus judged." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

SOMETHING MORE ABOUT COOKS. 

For sometime I had a treasure of a cook ; a 
fine Bucks county girl, whose strongest recom- 
mendation in my eyes, when I engaged her, was 
that she had never been out of sight of hind. 
But she left my house for a " better place," as 
she said. I might have bribed her to remain, 
by an offer of higher wages ; but, experience had 
demonstrated to my satisfaction, that this kind 
of bribery never turns out well. Your servant, 
in most instances, soon becomes your mistress — or, 
at least, makes bold efforts to assume that position. 

So, I let my Bucks county girl go to her 
" better place." As to how or why it was to be 
a better place, I did not make enquiry. That 
was her business. She was a free agent, and I 
did not attempt to influence her. In fact, being 
of rather an independent turn of mind myself, I 
sympathize with others in their independence, 
and rarely seek to interfere with a declared course 
of action. 

My new cook, unfortunately, had been out of 
eight of land, and that for weeks together. She 
was fresh from the Emerald Island. When she 
presented herself I saw in her but small promise. 
Having learned on enquiry that her name was 
A.lice Mahoney, I said : 

110 



SOMETHING MORE ABOUT COOKS. 113 

^' How long have you been in this country, 
Alice?" 

There was a moment or two of hesitation. 
Then she answered : 

" Sax months, mum." 

I learned afterwards that she had arrived only 
three days before. 

" Can you cook ?" I enquired. 

^' Och, yis ! Ony thing, from a rib of bafe 
down till a parate." 

" You're sure of that, Alice ?" 

" Och ! sure, mum." 

'' Can you give me a reference T 

" I've got a character from Mrs. Jordan, where 
I lived in New York. I've only been here a few 
days. Biddy Jones knows me." 

And she produced a written testification of 
ability, signed " Mary Jones, No. — William 
street. New York." There was a suspicious look 
about this " character ;" but of course I had no 
means of deciding whether it were a true or false 
document. 

After some debate with myself, I finally de- 
cided to give Alice a trial. 

It so happened that on the very day she came, 
an old lady friend of my mother's, accompanied 
by her two daughters, both married and house- 
keepers, called to sjDcnd the afternoon and take 
tea. As they lived at some distance, I had tea 
quite early, not waiting for Mr. Smith, whose 
business kept him away pretty late. 

During the afternoon, my " butter man" came. 
Occasionally he brings some very nice country 
sausages, and I always make it a point to secure 

I 



114 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

a few pounds when he does so. He had some on 
this occasron. 

" AHce," said I, as I entered the kitchen about 
four o'clock, " I want you to hurry and get tea 
ready as quickly as you can." 

" Tes, mum," was the ready reply. 

" And Alice," I added, " we'll have some of 
these sausages with the tea. They are very fine 
ones — better than we usually get. Be sure to 
cook them very nice." 

'' Yes, mum," promptly answered the girl, look- 
ing quite intelligent. 

A few more directions as to what we were to 
have were given, and then I went up to sit with 
my company. 

It was not my intention to leave all to the 
doubtful skill of my new cook, but, either the 
time passed very rapidly, or she was more prompt 
and active than is usual among cooks, for the 
tea bell rung before I w^as in expectation of hear- 
ing it. 

" Ah," said I, " there is our tea bell," and I 
arose, adding, " will you walk into the dining- 
room, ladies?" 

The words were no sooner uttered than a 
doubt as to all being as I could wish crossed my 
mind ; and I regretted that I had not first re- 
paired to the dining-room alone. But, as it was 
too late now, or, rather, I did not happen to have 
sufficient presence of mind to recall my invitation 
to the ladies to walk in to tea, until I had pre- 
ceded them a few minutes. 

Well, we were presently seated at the tea table. 
My practised eye instantly saw that the cloth 



SOMETHING MORE ABOUT COOKS. 115 

was laid crookedly, and that the dishes were 
placed in a slovenly manner. 

I couldn't help a passing apology, on the 
ground of a new domestic, and then proceeded 
to the business of pouring out the tea. The cups 
were handed around, and I soon noticed that my 
guests were sipping from their spoons in a very 
unsatisfactory manner. I was in the act of fill- 
ing my own cup from the tea urn, when I missed 
the plate of sausages, about which I had boasted 
to my lady friends as something a little better 
than were usually to be obtained. So I rung the 
table bell. Alice presently made her appearance. 

"Alice," said I, "where are the sausages I 
told you to cook ? You surely hav'nt forgotten 
them r 

" Och, no indade, mum. They're there." 

" Where ? I don't see them." 

And my eyes ran around the table. 

"' They're wid the ta mum, sure !" 

" With the tea ?" 

" Sure, mum, they're wid the ta. Ye towld 
me yees wanted the sausages wid the ta ; and 
sure they're there. I biled 'em well." 

A light now flashed over my mind. Throwing 
up the lid of the tea urn, I thrust in a fork, 
which immediately came in contact with a hard 
substance. I drew it forth, and exhibited a single 
link of a well " biled" sausage. 

" Let me draw a veil over what followed. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

NOT A RAG ON THEIR BACKS. • 

There are, among the many things which Mr. 
Smith, like other men, will not understand, fre- 
(|uent difficulties about the children's clothing. 
lie seems to think that frocks and trowsers grow 
spontaneously ; or that the dry goods, once 
bought and brought into the house, will resolve 
into the shapes desired, and fit themselves to the 
children's backs, like Cindarella's suit in the 
nursery tale. Now, I never did claim to be a 
sprite ; and I am not sure that the experience of 
all housekeepers will bear me out in the opinion 
that the longer a w^oman is married, the less she 
becomes like a fairy. 

Stitch ! stitch ! stitch ! Hood's Song of the 
Shirt, which every body has heard and admired, 
is certainly most eloquent and pathetic upon the 
sufferings and difficulties of sewing girls. " Much 
yet remains unsung," particularly in regard to 
the ceaseless labors of women who are as rich as 
Cornelia in muslin-rending, habit-cloth-destroy- 
ing, children's-plaid-rubbing — -jewels ! 1 am sure 
that the Roman matron never went shopping. 
I am sure that she did not undertake to keep her 
own children's clothing in repair ; for if she had, 
she could not have been ready, at a moment's 
warning, to put forward her troublesome charge 
(IIG) 



NOT A RAG ON THEIR BACKS. 117 

as specimen jewels. Do all I can, my little com- 
forts never are " fit to be seen !" 

Many is the weary evening that I have been 
occupied, past the noon of night, in repairing 
the wear and tear of habiliments — abridging the 
volume of the elder children's clothes into nar- 
row dimensions for the next, or compiling a suit 
for one, out of the fringed raiment of two or 
three. Honest was the pride with which I have 
surveyed these industrious efforts, and sincere 
the thought that I had really accomplished some- 
thing. Depositing the various articles where 
the wearers elect would find them, I have retired 
to rest ; almost angry with Mr. Smith, who was 
asleep hours before me — asleep as unconcernedly 
as if an indestructible substance fabric had been 
invented for children's clothing. 

Well, after such a night's work, imagine me 
waking, Avith a complacent and happy sensation 
that, my work having been done on the day be- 
fore, the morning is open for new employment. 
Down stairs I come, full of the thoughts of the 
confusion I shall heajD on Mr. Smith's head. He, 
observe, told me, as he left me to retire, that I 
had much better go to bed, for all my work 
would amount tg nothing but loss of necessary 
rest. I am ready to show him triumphant evi- 
dence to the contrary, in the clothes, as good as 
new, in which his children are habited. Before 
I can speak, I discern a lurking smile in his face. 
My boy Will stands in a sheepish posture, with 
his back as close to the jam, as if he were a 
polypus growing there, and his life depended upon 
the adhesion. 

i2 



118 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

My eldest girl — another of the laboriously 
iitted out of the night before, has a marvellous 
affection for the little stool, and the skirt of her 
frock seems drawn about her feet in a most un- 
])ecoming manner. 

But the third, an inveterate little romp, uncon- 
scious of shame, is curveting about in the most 
abandoned manner, utterly indifferent to the fact 
she has — not, indeed, " a rag to her back" — for 
she is all rags ! One hour's play before my de- 
scent has utterly abolished all traces of my in- 
dustry, so far as she is concerned. 

I expostulate — at first more in sorrow than in 
anger — but as Mr. Smith's face expands into a 
broad laugh, it bepomes more anger than sorrow. 
The child on the stool looks as if she would 
laugh, if she dared. Lifting lier up suddenly, I 
discover that the whole front breadth of her frock 
is burned — past redemption. 

I say nothing — what can I say ? I have not 
words equal to the emergency. And the 
boy — boys are such copies of their fathers ! 
He actually forgets all embarrassment, and 
breaks out into a hearty laugh. I jerk him for- 
ward. 

Horror on horrors ! The unveiling of the Ba- 
varian statue, of which I read an account in the 
newspapers the other day, is nothing to it. The 
jamb, it appears, has supported something be- 
side?: the mantle shelf; ibr when I draw the 
young Smith forward, deprived of the fi'iendly 
aid of the wall, his teguments drop to the floor, 
and he stands unveiled ! One lell swoop at rude 
play has destroyed all my little innumerable 



KOT A RAG TO THEIR BACKS. 119 

stitches ; and I km just where I was before I 
threaded a needle the night before ! 

Now I appeal to any body — any woman with 
the least experience, if this is not all too had ! 
And yet my husband insists that I have no need 
to be continually worrying myself with the 
needle. It is true that each of the children has 
four or five changes of clothes, which they might 
wear — but what is the use of their having things 
to " put right on — and tear right out !" I like 
to be prudent and saving. It was only the other 
day that Mr. Smith came in early, and found me 
busy; and commenced a regular oration. He 
said that every child in the house has a better 
wardrobe than he; and so he went on, and 
counted all off to me. He says — and men think 
they know so much — that if children have clothes 
they should wear them ; and when they are worn 
out, provide more, and not try to keep as many 
half-worn suits in repair, as there are new suits 
in a queen's wardrobe. But he likes, as well as 
any man, to see his children look neat, whatever 
he may say. And yet he pretends that children 
should have clothes so made that they can con- 
vert themselves into horses, and treat each other 
to rides without rending to pieces ! And he 
protests that it is all nonsense to undertake to 
keep children dressed in the fashion ! Truly I 
am tempted to say to the men as Job did to his 
friends : " No doubt but ye are the people, and 
wisdom shall die with you !" 

Such plagues as they are sometimes ! But I 
could not help laughing after all, when, as I said 
before, he was lecturing me. The table was 



120 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSEKEKPER. 

covered with work, done and in progress. He 
went on till out of breath. I answered : 

" Now you know the children have not a rag 
to their backs !" 

"I should think not," lie said, drily, as he 
looked about him. " The other morning finished 
up the rags on hand — but you are doing your 
best, with llinisy fniery, to get up a new assort- 
ment." 

" Now, that is unkind in you, Mr. Smith," said 
I, feeling hurt, and looking and speaking as I 
felt. " Keally unkind in you. I'm sure it's no 
pleasure for me to work, work, work, from morn- 
ing till night, until I'm worn down and good for 
nothing. I w ish my children to look decent at 
least ; and to do this at as small cost to you as 
possible. You can't charge me with wasting 
your property, at least." 

^' There, there, dear ! That will do. Say no 
more about it," returned Mr. Smith, in a soothing 
voice. " I didn't mean to be unkind. Still, I do 
think that you are a little over-particular about 
the children's clothes, as I have said before — 
over-particular in the matter of having things 
just so. Better, a great deal, I think, spare a 
lew hours from extra work given to the clothing 
designed for their bodies, to that which is to ar- 
ray and beautify their minds." 

'^ Now, Mr. Smith !" I exclaimed, and then 
bending my face into my hands, gave way to in- 
vohmtary tears. 

That he should have said this ! 














- " 





' 










,., 






_ — 








1 


— Il l> 




^^^^fSR 




1 






r 




CHAPTER XV. 

CURIOSITY. 

The curiosity of our sex is proverbial. Pro- 
verbs are generally based upon experience, and 
this one, I am ready to admit, is not without a 
good foundation to rest upon. 

Our sex are curious ; at least I am, and we are 
very apt to judge others by ourselves. I believe 
that I have never broken the seal nor peeped 
into a letter bearing the name of some other 
lady ; but, then, I will own to having, on more 
occasions than one, felt an exceedingly strong 
desire to know the contents of certain epistles in 
the hands of certain of my friends. 

The same feeling I have over and over again 
observed in my domestics, and, for this reason, 
have always been careful how I let my letters 
lie temptingly about. One chamber maid in my 
service, seemed to have a passion for reading 
other people's letters. More than once had I 
caught her rumaging in my drawers, or with 
some of my old letters in her hands ; and I could 
not help remarking that most of the letters left 
at the door by the penny post, had, if they pass- 
ed to me through her, a crumpled appearance. 
I suspected the cause of this, but did not detect 
my lady, until she had been some months in my 
family. 

(123) 



124 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

One morning, after bre<akfast was over, and 
the children ofl' to school, I drew on a cap, and 
went down to sweep out and dust the parlors. I 
had not been at work long, when I heard the bell 
ring. Presently Mary came tripping down 
stairs. As she opened the street door, I heard 
her say : 

" Ah ! another letter ? Who is it for ? Me ?" 

" No, it is for Mrs. Smith," was answered, in 
the rougher voice of the Despatch Post-man. 

"Oh." There was a perceptible disappoint- 
ment in Mary's tone. "What's the postage?" 
she asked. 

" Paid," said the man. 

The door closed, and I heard the feet of Mary 
slowly moving along the passage. Then the 
murmur of her voice reached my ears. Presently 
I heard her say : 

" I wonder who it is from ? Mrs. Smith gets 
a great many letters. No envelope, thank good 
ness ! but a plain, good old fashioned letter. I 
must see who it is from." 

By this time Mary had stepped within the 
back parlor. I stood, hid from her view, by one 
of the folding doors, which was closed, but with- 
in a few feet of her. 

" From Mrs. Jackson ! Hum — m. I wonder 
wdiat she's got to say ? Something about me, 
111 ])et a dollar." 

There was a very apparent change in the 
thermometer of Mary's feelings at this last 
thought, as was evident from the tone of her 
voice. 

"Lace collars — stockings — pocket han — . I 



CURIOSITY. 125 

can't make out that word, but it is handkerchiefs, 
of course/' thus Mary read and talked to herself. 
" Breastpin — this is too mean [ It's not true, 
neither. I'm a great mind to burn the letter. 
Mrs. Smith would never be the wiser. I won't 
give it to her now, at any rate. I'll put it in my 
pocket, and just think about it." 

The next sound that came to my ears was the 
pattering of Mary's feet as she went hurrying up 
the stairs. 

In a few minutes I followed. In one of my 
chambers I found Mary, and said to her : 

" Didn't the carrier leave me a letter just 
now ?" 

The girl hesitated a moment, and then an- 
swered : 

" Oh, yes, ma'am. I have it here in my pocket." 

And she drew forth the letter, crumbled, as 
was usually the case with all that passed through 
her hands. 

I took it, with some gravity of manner ; for I 
felt, naturally enough, indignant. Mary flushed 
a little under the steady eye that I fixed upon 
her. 

The letter, or note, was from my friend, Mrs. 
Jackman, and read as follows : 

" My Dear Mrs. Smith. — Do call in and see 
me some time to-day. I have bought some of the 
cheapest laces, stockings, and cambric pocket 
handkerchiefs that ever were seen. There are 
more left ; and at a great bargain. You must 
have some. And, by the way, bring with you 
that sweet breastpin I saw you wear at Mrs. 



126 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

May's last Thursday evening. I want to exam- 
ine it closely. I must have one just like it. Do 
come round to-day ; I've lots of things to say to 
you. Yours, &c." 

" Nothing so dreadful in all that," I said to 
myself, as I re-folded the letter. " My curious 
lady's conscience must be a little active ! Let's 
see what is to come of this." 

It is hardly in the nature of woman to look 
very lovingly upon the servant w^hom she has 
discovered peeping into her letters. At least, it 
was not in my nature. I, therefore, treated 
Mary with becoming gravity, whenever we hap- 
pened to meet. She, under the circumstances, 
was ill at ease ; and rather shunned contact with 
me. The morning passed away, and the after- 
noon waned until towards ^ve o'clock, when the 
accumulating pressure on Mary's feelings became 
so great that she was compelled to seek relief. 

I was alone, sewing, when my chamber maid 
entered my room. The corners of her lips in- 
clined considerably downward. 

" Can I speak a word with you, Mrs. Smith ?" 
said she. 

" Certainly, Mary," I replied. " What do you 
wish to say ?" 

Mary cleared her throat once or twice — looked 
very much embarrassed, and at length stammer- 
ed out . 

" You received a letter from Mrs. Jackson this 
morning ?" 

" No." I shook my head as I uttered this little 
monosyllable. 



CURIOSITY. 127 

A flush of surprise went over the girl's face. 

" Wasn't the letter I gave you from Mrs. Jack- 
son?" she asked. 

" No ; it was from Mrs. Jackman." 

Mary caught her breathy and stammered out, 
in her confusion : 

'^ Oh, my ! I thought it was from Mrs. Jack- 
son. I was sure of it." 

" What right had you to think any thing about 
it ?" I asked, with marked severity. 

Mary's face was, by this time crimsoned. 

I looked at her for some moments, and then, 
taking from my drawer Mrs. Jackman's note, 
handed it to her, and said : 

" There's the letter you were so curious about 
this morning. Read it." 

Mary's eyes soon took in the contents. The 
moment she was satisfied, she uttered a short 
" Oh !" strongly expressive of mental relief, and 
handed me back the letter. 

" I thought it w^as from Mrs. Jackson," said 
the still embarrassed girl, looking confused and 
distressed. 

" You can now retire," said I, " and when an- 
other letter is left at my door, be kind enough to 
consider it my property, not yours. I shall make 
it my business to see Mrs. Jackson, and ascer- 
tain from her why you are so much afraid that 
she will communicate with me. There's some- 
thing wrong." 

Poor Mary still lingered. 

"Indeed, Mrs. Smith," she sobbea — "I didn't 

do nothing wrong at Mrs. Jackson's, but wear 

lier clothes sometimes. Once I j ust borrowed a 

K 



128 CONFESSIONS OF A IlOUSEKEErER. 

breastpin of hers out of her drawer, to wear to a 
party ; and she saw me with it on, and said 1 had 
stolen it. But, I'd jDut my hand in the lire be- 
fore I'd steal, Mrs. Smith ! Indeed, indeed I 
would. I was only going to Avear it to the party ; 
and I didn't think there was any great harm in 
that." 

"■ Of course there was harm in using other 
people's things without their consent," I replied, 
severely. " And I don't wonder that Mrs. Jack- 
son accused you of stealing. But what cause 
had you for thinking this letter was from Mrs. 
Jackson ?" 

" The two names are so near ahke, and then 
Mrs. Jackson speaks about — ." 

Here Mary caught herself, and crimsoned still 
deeper. 

" That is," said I, " you took the liberty of 
peeping into my letter before you gave it to me ; 
and this is not your first offence of the kind." 

Mary was too much confounded to speak, or 
make any effort to excuse herself 3 and so thought 
it best to retire. 

I called to see Mrs. Jackson that da}^ She 
gave Mary a good character, as far as honesty 
was concerned ; but stated plainly her faults, 
especially her bad habit of wearing her clothes 
and trinkets, for which offence, in a moment of 
indignation, she had dismissed her from her ser- 
vice. 

I saw no reason to send Mary awav. But I 
gave her a ''good talking." I think she is pi'etty 
well cured of her propensity of reading other 
people's letters. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

HOUSE-CLEANING. 

I LIKE a clean house. So does Mr. Smith, and 
so do all men, if they would acknowledge it. At 
any rate, when their dwellings seem a little 
dingy or dusty — a very thin coat of dinginess or 
dust over the whole, preducing a decidedly bad 
effect — I say when their dwellings appear to them 
out of order — though ever so little — we are sure 
to find it out. The dull look of the house ap- 
pears to be communicated to the countenance of 
the master thereof. I confess that I have often 
been half inclined to wax and cork my husband's 
visage, or at least to whisk over it with the duster, 
and see if that experiment would not restore it^ 
sunny look. 

But though men like clean houses, they do not 
like house-cleaning. They have certain absurd 
notions which they would wish to carry out; 
such, for instance, as that constant-quiet, preven- 
tive care, or frequent topical apphcations, care- 
fully applied, would gradually renovate the whole 
interior. But who wishes to be cleaning all the 
time ? Who wishes to be always dusting ? In- 
deed, at the best, we are constantly with broom, 
brush, or besom in hand ; but the men ivill not 
perceive it, and we receive no credit for our tidi- 
ness. What is to be done, then ? Evidently 

(129) 



130 CONFESSIOXS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

there is iiotlihig better than a " demonstration/' 
as the politicians say — a demonstration that may 
be felt ; a mass-meetjng of brooms, buckets, 
brushes, paint-pots, Avhite-wash pails, chairs over- 
turned, tubs, coal-skuttles, dust-pans, char-wo- 
men, and all other possible disagreeables, all at 
once summoned, and each as much as possible in 
others' way. In this there is some satisfaction. 
It looks like husiness. It seems as if you were 
doing something. It raises the value of the 
operation, and demonstrates its usefulness and 
necessity ; for if there is little difference appa- 
rent between the house before cleaning and after, 
there is a world of odds beetween a house-c/ea?i- 
iPvfj and a house cleaned. There is a perfect de- 
light in seeing what order can be brought out of 
chaos, even tliough you are obliged to make the 
chaos first, to produce the effect. 

I had inflicted several of these impressive les- 
sons upon Mr. Smith. He had become so much 
horrified at their confusion, that I do believe he 
had fully reconciled himself to dust and dirt, as 
the better alternative. They were, to be sure, 
at some little cost of comfort to myself, and re- 
flectively produced discomfort for him ; for he 
traced, with a correctness which I could easier 
frown a than deny, many a week's indisposition 
to my house-cleaning phrenzy. And when a 
man's wife is sick, if he is a man of feeling, he is 
unhappy. And if he is a man of selfishness, he 
is wretched, too; for what becomes of husband's 
little comforts, when wife is not able to procure 
or direct them ? So Mr. Smith, — for the better 
reason, I believe — pure compassion — declared, 



HOUSE-CLEANING. 131 

long ago, against Avholesale house-cleaning. And 
he has so often interfered in my proceedings with 
his provoking prophecy, " Now, you know, my 
dear, it will make you sick," that I have striven 
many a time to hide pain under a forced smile, 
when it seemed as if " my head was like to 
rend. 

Now, a woman can carry her point in the house 
by stubborn daring, but " the better part of valor 
is discretion," and I have learned quietly to take 
my way, and steal a march upon him ; — open the 
flood-gate— set the chimneys smoking — up with 
the carpets — throw the beds out of the windows 
— pack the best china in the middle of the floor, 
distributing pokers and fire-shovels among it — 
unhang the pictures — set all the doors ajar — ^roll 
the children in dust — cover my head Avith a soiled 
night-cap — put on slip-shod shoes — and streak 
my ancles v/ith dust and dirty water. Then, if 
be pops in opportunely, I can say, with Shak- 
speare — amended : 

I am in slops, 
Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more, 
Returning were as tedious as go o'er. 

And, then, husband has no choice but to retreat 
to a chop-house, and leave me to finish. 

Bat the chance for a grand saturnalia is best 
when Mr. Smith goes from home for a day or 
two. Tlien I can deny myself to visitors — take 
full license — set the hydrant running, and puzzle 
the water commissioners with an extra consump- 
tion of Schuylkill. My last exploit in this way 
was rather disastrous ; and I am patiently wait- 
ing fur its memory to pass away, before I venture 

K-2 



132 COXFESSIOXS CF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

even to think of repeating it. Mr. Smith had 
business in New York — imperative business, he 
said, — but L do beheve it might have waited, had 
not Jenny Lind's lirst appearance taken place 
just then. This by the way. He went, and I 
was rejoiced to improve the opportunity, for it 
occurred precisely as I was devising some method 
to get myself so fairly committed to soap and 
In'ushes, that objection or interdict would be too 
late. 

Never did I pack his carpet-bag with more 
secret satisfaction than on that morning. He was 
entirely unsuspicious of my intention — though 
he might have divined it but for having a secret 
of his own, for Kitty's w^ater-heating operations 
spoiled the breakfast. There was more than a 
taste of " overdone" to the steak, and the whole 
alfair, even to me, was intolerable — me, who had 
the pleasures of house-cleaning in perspective to 
console me. The door was scarce shut behind 
him, when I entered into the business conamore. 
It was resolved to begin at the very attic and 
sweep, scrub, and wash down. Old boxes and 
trunks were dragged out of their places, and 
piles of forgotten dust swept out. The passen- 
gers in the street had a narrow chance for their 
beavers and fall bonnets, for every front window 
had an extra plashing. Mr. Smith had several 
times urged me to permit him to introduce some 
Yanlvce fashion which he highly recommends for 
having "professional window-cleaners," with their 
whitini:: and brushes, who could c:o throudi the 
house with half the trouble, and none of the 
Utter. Thcrc'tf nothing like water. 



HOUSE-CLEANING. 133 

The first day's work sufficed to put the house 
into thorough confusion, and I retired to bed — 
but not to rest, for my fatigue was too great to 
sleep in comfort. My neglected child rested as 
ill as myself, and when I rose the next morning, 
it was with the oppressive weight of a weary day 
before me. 1 had the consciousness that the 
work must be completed before my husband's re- 
turn ; and he had engaged to be with me at din- 
ner. I felt it an imperative duty to welcome him 
with a cheerful house, and a pleasant repast after 
his journey ; but as the time of his arrival drew 
near, I was more and more convinced of the im- 
possibility. Like a drove of wild beasts forced 
into a corner by a hunting party, we forced our 
unmanageable matters to a crisis. The area for 
old brooms and brushes, tubs, litter, and slops, 
w^as at last narrowed down to the kitchen, and all 
that remained of our house-cleaning was to put 
that place into something like the semblance of 
an apartment devoted to culinary purposes. Din- 
ner, as yet, was unthought of^^ — but the house 
was clean ! 

Wearied rather than refreshed by my night of 
unrest, my arms sore, and my limbs heavy, I la- 
bored with double zeal to get up an excitement, 
which should carry me through the remainder of 
the day. My head began to feel sensations of 
giddiness — for I had hardly eaten since my hus- 
band left. Of the pleasures of house-cleaning, I 
had at length a surfeit ; when a ring, which 1 
knew among all others, surprised me. I looked 
at the clock. It was past tour, and the kitchen 
still in confusion, and the hearth cold. 



134 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSEKEEPEn. 

I sank in a chair — in a swoon from sheer ex- 
haustion. Wlien I awoke to consciousness, an 
overturned pale of water was being absorbed by 
my clothing, my nose was rejecting with violent 
aversion the pungency of a bottle of prime Dur- 
ham mustard, to which Kitty had applied as the 
best substitute for salts which the kitchen allord- 
ed; and my husband, carpet-bag and cane in 
hand, was pushing his way toward me with more 
liaste than good speed, as the obstacles witness- 
ed, which he encountered and overturned. 
■ I was confined to my room a week — which I 
could not conceal from Mr. Smith. But he does 
not even yet know the whole amount of the 
breakage, and, thank fortune, he is too much of 
a man to ask. I am only afraid that he will 
succeed in forcing me to admit, that w hat he calls 
his classical proposition is true ; that to clean a 
house does not require the feat of a Hercules, to 
wit : turning a river through it. 

Tiiis is my story of house-cleaning, and it is 
in no very high degree flattering to my house- 
keeping vanity. Perhaps the thing might be 
managed differently. But I don't know. Out 
of chaos, order comes. While on this subject, it 
will be all in place to introduce another house- 
cleaning story, which I find floating about in the 
newspapers. It presents the matter from another 
point of view, and was written, it will be seen, 
by a man : 

Talk of a washing day ! What is that to a 
whole week of washing-days? No, even this 
^dves no true idea of tliat worst of domestic 



HOUSE-CLEANIXG. 135 

afilictions a poor man can suffer — house-cleaning. 
The washmg is confined to the kitchen or wash- 
house, and the effect visible in the dining-room 
is in cold or badly cooked meals; with a few 
other matters not necessary to mention here. 
But in the house-cleaning — oh, dear ! Like the 
dove from the ark, a man finds no place where 
he can rest the sole of his foot. Twice a year, 
regularly, have I to pass through this trying or- 
deal, wiUy-nilly, as it is said, in some strange 
language. To rebel is useless. To grumble of 
no avail. Up come the carpets, topsyturvy goes 
the furniture, and sivash ! goes the water from 
garret to cellar. I don't know how other men 
act on these occasions, but I find discretion the 
better part of valor, and submission the wisest 
exjoedient. 

Usually it happens that my good wife works 
herself half to death — loses the even balance of 
her mind — and, in consequence, makes herself 
and all around her unhappy. To indulge in an 
unamiable temper is by no means a common 
thing for Mrs. Sunderland, and this makes its 
occurrence on these occasions so much the harder 
to bear. Our last house-cleaning took place in 
the fall. I have been going to write a faithful 
history of what was said, done, and suffered on 
the occasion ever since, and now put my design 
into execution, even at the risk of having n)y 
head combed with a three-legged stool by my ex- 
cellent wife, who, when she sees this in print, 
will be taken, in nautical phrase, all aback. But, 
when a history of our own shortcomings, mis- 
haps, mistakes, and misadventures will do others 



loO COXFF.SSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER.* 

good, I am for giving the history and pocketing 
the odium, il' there be such a thing as odium 
attached to revelations of human weakness and 
error. 

" We must clean house this week," said my 
good wife one morning as we sat at the breakfast- 
table — '' every thing is in a dreadful condition. I 
can't look at nor touch any thing without feeling 
my flesh creep." 

I turned my eyes, involuntarily, around the 
room. I was not, before, aware of the filthy 
state in which we were living. But not having 
so good " an eye for dirt" as Mrs. Sunderland, 1 
was not able, even after having my attention 
called to the fact, to see " the dreadful condition" 
of things. I said nothing, however, for I never 
like to interfere in my wife's department. I as- 
sume it as a fact that she knows her own busi- 
ness better than I do. 

Our domestic establishment consisted at this 
time of a cook, chamber maid, and waiter. This 
was an ample force, my Avife considered, for all 
purposes of house-cleaning, and had so announced 
to the individuals concerned some days before 
she mentioned the matter incidentally to me. 
We had experienced, in common with others, our 
own troubles with servants, but were now excel- 
lently well off in this respect. Things had gone 
on for months with scarcely a jar. This was a 
pleasant feature in affairs, and one upon which 
we often congratulated ourselves. 

When I came home at dinner-time, on the day 
the anticipated house-cleaning had been men- 
tioned to me, I found my wife with a long face. 



HOUSE-CLEANING. 137 

" Are you not well ?" I asked. 

" I'm well enoucrh," Mrs. Sunderland answered, 
'^ but I'm out of all patience with Ann and Han- 
nah." 

" What is the matter with them ?" I asked, in 
surprise. 

'' They are both going at the end of this week." 

" Indeed ! How comes that ? I thought they 
were very well satisfied." 

" So they were, all along, until the time for 
house-cleaning approached. It is too bad !" 

"That's it— is it?" 

" Yes. And I feel out of all patience about it. 
It shows such a want of principle." 

" Is John going too ?" I asked. 

" Dear knows ! I expect so. He's been as 
sulky as he could be all the morning — ^in fact, 
ever since I told him that he must begin taking 
up the carpets to-morrow and shake them." 

" Do you think Ann and Hannah Avill really 
go ?" I asked. 

" Of course they will. I have received formal 
notice to supply their places by the end of this 
week, which I must do, somehow or other." 

The next day was Thursday, and, notwith- 
standing both cook and chamber maid had given 
notice that they were going on Saturday, my 
wife had the whole house knocked into pi^ as the 
printers say, determined to get all she could out 
of them. 

When I made my appearance at dinner-time, 
I found all in precious confusion, and my wife 
heated and worried excessively. Nothing was 
going on right. She had undertaken to get the 



138 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

diiiiierj in order that Ann and Hannah might 
proceed uninterruptedly in the work of house- 
cleaning; hut as Ann and Hannah had given 
notice to (juit in order to escape this very honse- 
cleaning, they wore in no humor to put things 
ahead. In consequence, they had " poked about 
and done nothing," to use Mrs. SunderLand's 
own hinguage; at which she was no little in- 
censed. 

When evening came, I found things worse. 
My wife had set her whole force to work upon 
our chamber, early in the day, in order to have 
it linished as quickly as possible, that it might 
be in a sleeping condition by night — dry and 
well aired. But, instead of this, Ann and Han- 
nah had "dilly-dallied" the whole day over 
cleaning the paint, and now the floor was not 
even washed up. My poor wife was in a sad 
way about it ; and I am sure that I felt uncom- 
fortable enough. Afraid to sleep in a damp 
chamber, we put two sofas together in the parlor, 
and passed the night there. 

The morning rose cloudily enough. I under- 
stood matters clearly. K Mrs. Sunderland had 
hired a couple of women for two or three days 
to do the cleaning, and got a man to shake the 
carpets, nothing would have been heard about 
the sulkiness of John, or the notice to quit of 
cook and chamber maid. Putting upon them 
the task of house-cleaning was considered an im- 
position, and they were not disposed to stand it. 

" I shall not be home to dinner to-day," 1 said, 
as I rose from the breakfast table. " As you are 
all in so much confusion, and you have to do the 



HOUSE-CLEANING. 139 

cooking, I prefer getting sometliing to eat down 
town." 

" Very well/' said Mrs. Sunderland — " so much 
the better." 

I left the house a few minutes afterwards, glad 
to get away. Every thing was confusion, and 
every face under a cloud. 

" How are you getting along ?" I asked, on 
coming home at night. 

" Humph ! Not getting along at all !" replied 
Mrs. Sunderland, in a fretful tone. "In two 
days, the girls might have thoroughly cleaned 
the house from top to bottom, and what do you 
think they have done ? Nothing at all !" 

" Nothing at all ! They must have done some- 
thing." 

" Well, next to nothing, then. They havn't 
finished the front and back chambers. And what 
is worse, Ann has gone away sick, and Han- 
nah is in bed with a real or pretended sick- 
headache." 

" Oh, dear!" I ejaculated, involuntarily. 

" Now, a'nt things in a pretty way ?" 

" I think they are," I replied, and then asked, 
" what are you going to do ?" 

" I have sent John for old Jane, who helped 
us to clean house last spring. But, as likely as 
not, she's at work somewhere." 

Such was in fact the case, for John came in a 
moment after with that consoling report. 

" Go and see Nancy, then," my wafe said, 
sharply, to John, as if he were to blame for Jane's 
being at work. 

John turned aw^ay slowly and went on hia 

L 



140 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

errand, evidently in not the most amiable mood 
in the world. It was soon ascertained that Nancy 
couldn't come. 

" Why can't she come ?" enquired my wife. 

" She says she's doing some sewing for her- 
self, and can't go out this week," replied John. 

" Go and tell her that she must come. That 
my house is upside down, and both the girls are 
sick. 

But Nancy was in no mood to comply. John 
brought back another negative. 

'' Go and say to her, John, that I will not take 
no for an answer : that she must come. I will 
give her a dollar a day." 

This liberal offer of a dollar a day was effec- 
tive. Nancy came and went to work on the 
next morning. Of course, Ann did not come 
back ; and a^ it was Hannah's last day, she felt 
privileged to have more headache than was con- 
sistent with cleaning paint or scrubbing floors. 
The work w^ent on, therefore, very slowly. 

Saturday night found us without cook or 
chamber maid, and with only two rooms in order 
in the whole house, viz. our chambers on the 
second story. By great persuasion, Nancy 
was induced to stay during Sunday and cook 
for us. 

An advertisement in the newspaper on Mon- 
day morning, brought us a couple of raw Irish 
girls, w4io were taken as better than nobody at 
all. With these new recruits, Mrs. Sunderland 
set about getting " things to right." Nancy 
plodded on, so well pleased with her wages, that 
she continued to get the work of one day 



HOUSE-CLEANING. 141 

lengtliened out into two, and so managed to get 
a week's job. 

For the whole of another precious week we 
were in confusion. 

" How do your new girls get along ?" I asked 
of my wife, upon whose face I had not seen a 
smile for ten days. 

" Don't name them, Mr. Sunderland ! They're 
not worth the powder it would take to shoot 
them. Lazy, ignorant, dirty, good-for-nothing 
creatures. I wouldn't give them house-room." 

" I'm sorry to learn that. What will you do ?" 
I said. 

^' Dear knows ! I was so well suited in Ann 
and Hannah, and, to think that they should have 
served me so ! I wouldn't have believed it of 
them. But they are all as destitute of feeling 
and principle as they can be. And John con- 
tinues as sulky as a bear. He pretended to shake 
the carpets, but you might get a wheelbarrow- 
load of dirt out of them. I told him so, and the 
impudent fellow replied that he didn't know any 
thing about shaking carpets ; and that it wasn't 
the waiter's place, any how." 

" He did r 

" Yes, he did. I was on the eve of ordeiing 
him to leave the house." 

" I'll save you that trouble," I said, a little 
warmly. 

" Don't say any thing to him, if you please, 
Mr. Sunderland," returned my wife. " There 
couldn't be a better man about the house than 
he is, for all ordinary purposes. If we should 
lose him, we shall never get another half so good. 



142 CONFESS ONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

I wish I'd hired a man to shake the carpets at 
once ; they would have been much better done, 
and I should have had John's cheerful assistance 
about the house, which w^ould have been a great 
deal." 

That evening I overheard, accidentally, a 
conversation between John and the new girls, 
w^hich threw some light upon the whole matter. 

" John," said one of them, " what made Mrs. 
Sunderland's cook and chamber maid go aff and 
lave her right in the middle of house-clainin' ?" 

'^ Because Mrs. Sunderland, instead of hiring 
a woman, as every lady does, tried to put it all 
off upon them." 

" Indade ! and was that it ?" 

" Yes, it w^as. They never thought of leaving 
until they found they were to be imposed upon ; 
and, to save fifty cents or a dollar, she made me 
shake the carpets. I never did such a thing in 
my life before. I think I managed to leave 
about as much dirt in as I shook out. But I'll 
leave the house before I do it again." 

" So would I, John. It was a downright mane 
imposition, so it w^as. Set a waiter to shaking 
carpets !" 

'' I don't think much has been saved," re- 
marked the waiter, for Nancy has had a dollar a 
day ever since she has been here/ 

" Indade !" 

" Yes ; and besides that, Mrs. Sunderland has 
had to work like a dog herself All this might 
Jiave been saved, if she had hired a couple of 
women at sixty-two and a half cents a day for 
two or three days, and paid for having the car- 



V 

HOUSE-CLEANING. 143 

pets shaken ; that's the way other people do. 
The house would have been set to rights in three 
or four days, and every thing going on like clock- 
work." 

I heard no more. I wanted to hear no more ; 
it was all as clear as day to me. When I related 
to Mrs. Sunderland what John had said, she 
was, at first, quite indignant. But the reasona- 
bleness of the thing soon became so apparent 
that she could not but acknowledge that she had 
acted very unwisely. 

" This is another specimen of your saving at 
the spigot," I said, playfully. 

'' There, Mr. Sunderland ! not a word more, 
if you please, of that," she returned, her cheek 
more flushed than usual. "It is my duty,, as 
your wife, to dispense with prudence in your 
household; and if, in seeking to do so, I have 
run a little into extremes, I think it ill becomes 
you to ridicule or censure me. Dear knows ! I 
have not sought my own ease or comfort in the 
matter." 

" My dear, good wife," I quickly said, in a 
soothing voice, '' I have neither meant to ridicule 
nor censure you; nothing was farther from my 
thoughts." 

" You shall certainly have no cause to com- 
plain of me on this score again," she said, still a 
little warmly. " When next we clean house, I 
will take care that it shall be done by extra help 
altogether." 

"' Do so by all means, Mrs. Sunderland. Let 
there be, if possible, two paint-cleaners and 
scrubbers in every room, that the work may all 

L2 



144 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

be done in a day instead of a week. Take my 
word for it, the cost will be less ; or, if double, I 
A^ll clieerfidly pay it for the sake of seeing 'or- 
der from chaos rise' more quickly than is wont 
under the ordinary system of doing things." 

My wife did not just Hke this speech, I could 
see, but she bit her lips and kept silent. 

In a week we were without a cook again ; and 
months passed before Ave were in any thing like 
domestic comfort. At last my wife was fortu- 
nate enough to get Ann and Hannah back again, 
and then the old pleasant order of things was 
restored. I rather think that we shall have a 
different state of things at next house-cleaning 
time. I certainly hope so. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

BROILING A LOBSTER. 

Mr. Smith's appetite sometimes takes an epi- 
curean turn, and then we indulge in a lobster, 
calf s-head soup, terrapins, or something of that 
sort. 

Once upon a time, he sent home a lobster. I 
did not feel very well that day, and concluded to 
leave the cooking of the animal to a new girl 
that I had taken a week or two before, on a 
strong recommendation. She claimed to be a 
finished cook, and her testimonials were distinct 
on that head. 

" Kitty," said I, " Mr. Smith has sent home a 
lobster, I believe ?" 

I had summoned the girl to. my room. 

" Yes, ma'am," she replied. "Is it for din- 
ner?" 

" Of course it is ; and you must see that it is 
well cooked." 

Kitty lingered a few moments, as if not en- 
tirely satisfied about something, and then retired 
to the kitchen. 

. " I wonder if she knows how to boil a lobster ?" 
said I to myself. 

But then, the remembrance that she had come 
to me as a finished cook, crossed my mind, and I 
answered, mentallv, my own question, by saying : 

C147J 



148 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

" Of course she does." 

Not long afterwards, I went to the dining- 
room, Avhicli was over the kitchen. I had been 
there only a little while, when I heard an un- 
usual noise below, followed by an exclamation 
from Kitty — 

" Oh ! murderation ! / can't cook the strad- 
dling thing. I wonder what Mr. Smith brought 
it home alive for!" 

I was, of course, all attention now, and going 
to the top of the stairs, stood listening to what 
was going on below. 

" There now. Lie still !" I heard Kitt}^ say. 
This was followed by a rattling of tongs, or some 
other iron implements, and a rapid shuffling of 
feet. 

Curious to know w^liat was going on, I step- 
ped lightly down the stairs, and through the 
open door had a full view of both Kitty and the 
lobster. 

Live coals had been raked out upon the hearth. 
Over these was placed a gridiron, and on this not 
very comfortable bed Kitty was endeavoring to 
force Mr. Lobster to lie still and be cooked. But 
this he was by no means inclined to do; and no 
sooner did she jDlace him on the heated bars, than 
he made his way off in the quickest possible 
time. Then she caught hold of him with the 
tongs, restored him to his proper position on the 
gridiron, and with poker and tongs strove to hold 
liim there. 

As the lobster, a second and a third time, 
struggled free of Kitty's tongs and poker, I could 
no longer restrain mj'self, but burst forth into a 



BROILING A LOBSTER. 149 

loud fit of laughter. By the time this subsided, 
his lobstership was in the middle of the kitchen 
floor. Picking him up, I threw him into a pot 
of boiling water, and then retreated from the 
kitchen, so convulsed with laughter that I could 
not utter a word. 

Kitty did not soon hear the last of her attempt 
to broil a lobster. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE STRAWBERRY-WOMAN. 

The observance of economy in matters of 
flxmily expenditure, is the duty of every house- 
keeper. But, there is an economy that involves 
wrong to others, which, as being unjust and 
really dishonest, should be carefully avoided. In 
a previous chapter, I introduced the story of a 
poor fish-woman, as affording a lesson for the 
humane. Let me here give another, which 
forcibly illustrates the subject of oppressive and 
unj ust economy. It is the story of a " Straw- 
berry-Woman," and appeared in one of the maga^ 
zincs some years ago. 

" Strawh'rees ! Strawb'ree^ r cried a poorly 
clad, tired-looking woman, about eleven o'clock 
one sultry June morning. She was passing a 
handsome house in Wahiut street, into the win- 
dows of which she looked earnestly, in the hope 
of seeing the face of a customer. She did not 
look in vain, for the shrill sound of her voice 
brought forward a ladj^, dressed in a silk morn- 
ing-wrapper, who beckoned her to stop. The 
woman lifted the heavy tray from her head, and 
placing it upon the door-step, sat wearilj^ down. 

"What's the price of your strawberries?" 
asked the ladv, as she came to the door. 
(150) 



THJt. JsTRAWBERRY-WOMAN. 151 

" Ten cents a box, madam. They are right 
fresh." 

" Ten cents !" replied the lady, in a tone of 
surprise, drawing herself up, and looking grave. 
Then shaking her head and compressing her lips 
firmly, she added : 

" I can't give ten cents for strawberries. It's 
too much." 

'' You can't get such strawberries as these for 
less, madam," said the woman. I got a levy a 
box for them yesterday." 

" Then you got too much, that's all I have to 
say. I never pay such prices. I bought straw- 
berries in the market yesterday, just as good as 
yours, for eight cents a box." 

"I don't know how they do to sell them at 
that price," returned the woman. " Mine cost 
nearly eight cents, and ought to bring me at 
least twelve. But I am w^illing to take ten, so 
that I can sell out quickly. It's a very hot day." 
And the woman wiped, with her apron, the per- 
spiration from her glowing face. 

"No, I won't pay ten cents," said the lady(?) 
coldly. " I'll give you forty cents for ^yq boxes, 
and nothing more." 

" But, madam, they cost me within a trifle of 
eight cents a box." 

" I can't help that. You paid too much for 
them, and this must be your loss, not mine, if I 
buy your strawberries. I never pay for other 
people's mistakes. I understand the use of money 
much better than that." 

The poor woman did not feel very well. The 
day was unusually hot and sultry, and her tray 



152 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

felt heavier, and tired her more than usual. Five 
boxes would lighten it, and if she sold her ber- 
ries at eight cents, she would clear two cents and 
a half, and that would be better than nothing. 

■•' I'll tell you what I will do," she said, after 
thinking a few moments ; " I don't feel as well 
as usual to-day, and my tray is heavy. Five 
boxes sold will be something. You shall have 
them at nine cents. They cost me seven and a 
half, and I'm sure it's worth a cent and a half a 
box to cry them about the streets such hot 
weather as this." 

" I have told you, my good woman, exactly 
what I will do," said the customer, with dignity. 
" If you are willing to take what I offer you, say 
so ; if not, w^e needn't stand here any longer." 

" Well, I suppose you will have to take them," 
replied the strawberry-woman, seeing that there 
was no hope of doing better. " But it's too 
little." 

" It's enough," said the lady, as she turned to 
call a servant. Five boxes of fine large straw- 
berries were received, and forty cents paid for 
them. The lady re-entered the parlor, pleased 
at her good bargain, while the poor woman 
turned from the door sad and disheartened. She 
walked nearly the distance of a square before 
she could trust her voice to utter her monotonous 
cry of 

" Stra^y]Jrees ! StrawbVees r 

An hour afterward, a friend called upon Mrs. 
Mier, the lady who had bought the strawberries. 
After talkinii: about various matters and tliinscs in- 
teresting to lady housekeepers, Mrs. Mier said : 



rnornmg 



THE STRAWBERRY-WOMAN. 153 

"How much did you pay for strawberries this 
?" 

" Ten cents." 

"You paid too much. I bought them for 
eight." 

" For eight ! Were they good ones ?" 

" Step into the dining-room, and I will show 
them to you." 

The ladies stepped into the dining-room, when 
Mrs. Mier diplayed her large, red berries, which 
were really much finer than she had at first sup- 
posed them to be. 

" You didn't get them for eight cents," re- 
marked the visitor, incredulously. 

" Yes I did. I paid forty cents for five boxes." 

" While I paid fifty for some not near so good." 

" I suppose you paid just what you were 
asked ?" 

" Yes, I always do that. I buy from one wo- 
man during the season, who agrees to furnish me 
at the regular market price." 

" Which you will always find to be two or three 
cents above what you can get them for in the 
market." 

" You always buy in market." 

" I bought these from a woman at the door." 

" Did she only ask eight cents for them ?" 

" Oh, no ! She asked ten cents, and pretended 
that she got twelve and a half for the same 
quality of berries yesterday. But I never give 
these people what they ask."^ 

" While I never can find it in my heart to ask 
a poor, tired-looking woman at my door, to take 

a cent less for her fruit than she asks me. A 

M 



154 CX3NFESSI0NS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

cent or two,wliile it is of little account to me, 
must be of great importance to her." 

" You are a very poor economist, I see," said 
Mrs. Mier. " If that is the way you deal with 
every one, your husband no doubt finds his ex- 
pense account a very serious item. 

" I don't know about that. He never com- 
plains. He allows me a certain sum every week 
to keep the house, and find my own and the chil- 
dren's clothes ; and so far from ever calling on 
him lor more, I alwaj's have fifty or a hundred 
dollars lying by me." 

" You must have a precious large allowance, 
then, considering your want of economy in pay- 
ing everybody just what they ask for their 
things." 

" Oh, no ! I don't do that, exactly, Mrs. Mier. 
If I consider the price of a thing too high, I 
don't buy it." 

" You paid too high for your strawberries to- 
day." 

" Perhaps I did ; although I am by no means 
certain." • 

" You can judge for yourself Mine cost but 
eight cents, and you own that they are superior 
to yours at ten cents." 

" Still, yours may have been too cheap, instead 
of mine too dear." 

" Too cheap ! That is funny ! I never saw 
any thing too cheap in my life. The great 
trouble is, that every thing is too dear. What 
do you mean by too cheap ?" 

" The person who sold them to vou mav not 
have made profit enougli upon tliem to pay ibr 



THE STRATTEERRY-WOMAN. 155 

her time and labor. If this were the case, she 
sold them to you too cheap." 

" Suppose she paid too high for them ? Is the 
purchaser to pay for her error ?" 

" Whether she did so, it would be hard to tell ; 
aiid even if she had made such a mistake, I 
think it would be more just and humane to pay 
her a price that would give her a fair profit, in- 
stead of taking from her the means of buying 
bread for her children. At least, this is my way 
of reasoning." 

" And a precious lot of money it must take to 
support such a system of reasoning. But how 
much, pray, do you have a week to keep the 
family ? I am curious to know." 

" Thirty-five dollars." 

" Thirty-five dollars ! You are jesting." 

"" Oh, no ! That is exactly what I receive, 
and as I have said, I find the sum ample." 

" While I receive fifty dollars a week," said 
Mrs. Mier, " and am forever caUing on my hus- 
band to settle some bill or other for me. And 
yet I never pay the exorbitant prices asked by 
everybody for every thing. I am strictly eco- 
nomical in my family. While other people pay 
their domestics a dollar and a half and two dol- 
lars a week, I give but a dollar and a quarter 
each to my cook and chambermaid, and require 
the chamber maid to help the washer-woman on 
Mondays. Nothing is wasted in my kitchen, for I 
take care in marketing, not to allow room for waste. 
I don't know how it is that you save money 
on thirty-five dollars with j^our system, w^hile 
I find fifty dollars inadequate with my system." 



15G CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEFEK. 

The exact difference in the two systems will 
be clearly understood by the reader, when he is 
informed that although Mrs. Mier never paid any 
body as much as was at first asked for an article, 
and was always talking about economy, and try- 
ing to practice it, by withholding from others 
what was justly their due, as in the case of the 
strawberry-woman, yet she was a very extrava- 
gant person, and spared no money in gratifying 
her own pride. Mrs. Oilman, her visitor, was, 
on the contrary, really economical, because she 
was moderate in all her desires, and was usually 
as well satisfied with an article of dress or furni- 
ture that cost ten or twenty dollars, as Mrs. Mier 
was w4th one that cost forty or fifty dollars. In 
little things, the former was not so particular as 
to infringe the rights of others, while in larger 
matters, she was careful not to run into extrava- 
gance in order to gratify her owni or children's 
l)ride and vanity, while the latter pursued a 
course directly opposite. 

Mrs. Gilman w-as not as much dissatisfied, on 
reflection, about the price she had paid for her 
strawberries, as she had felt at first. 

" 1 would rather pay these poor creatures tw^o 
cents a box too much than too little," she said 
to herself, — "dear knows, they earn their money 
hard enough, and get but a scanty portion after 
all." 

^ Although the tray of the poor straw^berry- 
woman, when she passed from the presence of 
Mrs. Mier, was lighter by five boxes, her heart 
was heavier, and that made her steps more weary 
than before. The next place at which she stop- 



THE STRAWBERRY-WOMAN. 157 

ped, slie found the same disposition to beat her 
down in her j)rice. 

" I'll give you nine cents, and take four boxes/' 
said the lady. 

" Indeed, madam, that is too little," replied the 
woman ; " ten cents is the lowest at which I can 
sell them and make even a reasonable profit." 

" Well, say thirty-seven and a half for four 
boxes, and I will take them. It is only two cents 
and a half less than you ask for them." 

" Give me a fip, ma ! — there comes the candy- 
man !" exclaimed a little fellow, pressing up to 
the side of the lady. " Quick, ma ! Here, candy- 
man !" calling after an old man with a tin cvlin- 
der under his arm, that looked something like an 
ice cream freezer. The lady drew out her purse, 
and searched among its contents for the small 
coin her child wanted. 

" I havn't any thing less than a levy," she at 
length said. 

" Oh, well, he can change it. Candy-man, yon 
can change a levy ?" 

By this time the "candy-man" stood smiling 
beside the strawberry-woman. As he was count- 
ing out the fip's w^orth of candy, the child spoke 
up in an earnest voice, and said : 

" Get a levy's worth, mother, do, w^ont you ? 
Cousin Lu's coming to see us to-morrow." 

" Let him have a levy's worth, candy-man. 
He's such a rogue I can't resist him," responded 
the mother. The candy was counted out, and 
the levy paid, when the man retired in his usual 
good humor. 

" Shall I take these strawberries for thirty- 



M 



158 CONFESSIONS OF A UOUSEKKEPEK. 

seven and a half cents?" said the lady, the smil 
fading from her face. " It is all I am willing to 
give." 

" If you wont pay any more, I musn t stand 
for two cents and a half," replied the wo- 
man, " although they would nearly buy a 
loaf of bread for the children," she mentally 
added. 

The four boxes were sold for the sum offered, 
and the woman lifted the tray upon her head, 
and moved on again. The sun shone out still 
hotter and hotter as the day advanced. Large 
beads of perspiration rolled from the throbbing 
temples of the strawberry-w^oman, as she passed 
wearily up one street and down another, crying 
her fruit at the top of her voice. At length all 
were sold but five boxes, and now it was past 
one o'clock. Long before this she ought to have 
been at home. Faint from over-exertion, she 
lifted her tray from her head, and placing it upon 
a door-step, sat down to rest. As she sat tlius, 
a lady came up, and paused at the door of the 
house, as if about to enter. 

" You look tired, my good woman," she said 
kindly. " This is a very hot day for such hard 
work as yours. How do you sell your straws- 
berries ?" 

" I ought to have ten cents for them, but no- 
body seems willing to give ten cents to-day, al- 
though they are very fine, and cost me as much 
as some I have got twelve and a half for." 

'' How many boxes have you ?" 

" Five, ma'am." 
They are very fine, sure enough," said the 



(C 



THE STRAWBERRY-^OMAN. 159 

lady, stooping down and examining them ; " and 
well worth ten cents. " I'll take them." 

" Thanky, ma'am. I was afraid I should have 
to take them home," said the woman, her heart 
bounding up lightly. 

The lady rung the bell, for it was at her door 
tJiat the tired strawberry-woman had stopped to 
rest herself. While she was waiting for the door 
to be opened, the lady took from her purse the 
'money for the straAvberries, and handing it to 
the woman, said : 

" Here is your money. Shall I tell the ser- 
vant to bring you out a glass of cool water ? 
You are hot and tired." 

" If you please, ma'am," said the woman, with 
a grateful look. 

The water was sent out by the servant who 
was to receive the strawberries, and the tired 
woman drank it eagerly. Its refreshing coolness 
flowed through every vein, and when she took 
up her tray to return home, both heart and step 
were lighter. 

The lady whose benevolent feelings had 
prompted her to the performance of this little 
act of kindness, could not help remembering the 
woman's grateful look. She had not done much 
— not more than it was every one's duty to do; 
but the recollection of even that was pleasant, 
far more pleasant than could possibly have been 
Mrs. Mier's self-gratulations at having saved ten 
cents on her purchase of five boxes of strawber- 
ries, notwithstanding the assurance of the poor 
woman who vended them, that, at the reduced 



ICO CONFESSIONS OF A UuUSEKEEPER. 

rate, her profit on the whole would only be two 
cents and a half. 

After dinner Mrs. Mier went out and spent 
thirty doUars in purchasing jewelry for her eldest 
daughter, a young lady not yet eighteen years 
of age. That evening, at the tea-table, the 
strawberries were highly commended as being 
the largest and most delicious in flavor of any 
they had yet had ; in reply to which, Mrs. Mier 
stated, with an air of peculiar satisfaction, that 
she had got them for eight cents a box, when they 
were worth at least ten cents. 

" The woman asked me ten cents," she said, 
" but I offered her eight, and she took them." 

While the family of Mrs. Mier were enjoying 
their pleasant repast, the strawberry-woman sat 
at a small table, around which were gathered 
three young children, i\\e oldest but six jears 
of age. She had started out in the morning with 
thirty boxes of strawberries, for which she was 
to pay seven and a half cents a box. If all had 
brought the ten cents a box, she would have 
made seventy-five cents ; but such was not the 
case. Rich ladies had beaten her down in her 
price — had chaffered with her for the few ])ennies 
of profits to which her hard labor entitled her 
— and actually robbed her of the meager pit- 
tance she strove to earn for her children. Instead 
of realizing the small sum of seventy-five cents, 
she had cleared only forty-five cents. With this 
she bought a little Indian meal and molasses 
for her own and her children's supper and 
breakfast. 

As she sat with her children, eating the only 



THE STRAWBERRY-WOMAN. 



lU 



food she was able to provide for them, and thought 
of what had occurred during the day, a feehng 
of bitterness toward her kind came over her ; 
but the remembrance of the kind words, and the 
gLass of cool water, so timely and thoughtfully 
tendered to her, was like leaves in the waters of 
Marah. Her heart softened, and with the tears 
stealing to her eyes, she glanced upward, and 
asked a blessing on her who had remembered 
that, though poor, she was still human. 

Economy is a good thing, and should be prac- 
ticed by all, but it should show itself in denying 
ourselves, not in oppressing others. We see per- 
sons spending dollar after dollar foolishly one 
hour, and in the next trying to save a five pen- 
ny piece off of a wood-sawyer, coal-heaver, or 
market-woman. Such things are disgraceful^ if 
not dishonest. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

LOTS OF THINGS. 

" U DEAR !" said I to Mr. Smith one morning, 
as we arose from the breakl'ast-table, at which 
we had l)een partaking of rather a badlj-cooked 
meal, — "more trouble in prospect." 

" What's the matter now ?" asked Mr. Smith, 
with a certain emphasis on the w^ord " now" that 
didn't sound just agreeable to my ears. 

" Oh, nothing ! nothing !" I answered, with as 
much indifference of manner as I could assume. 

" You spoke of trouble," said he, kindly, " and 
trouble, in my experience, is rather more tangi- 
ble than ^nothing.'" 

" I've another raw Irish girl in the kitchen, 
who, according to her own confession, hasn't 
been above ten days in the country. Isn't that 
enouurh?" 

" I should think so. But, why, in the name 
of goodness did you take another of these green 
islanders into your house ?" 

"It's easy enough to ask questions, Mr. Smith," 
said I, a little fretfully ; " but — " I checked my- 
self We looked at each other, smiled, and — 
said no more on the subject. 

" Your name is Anna, I believe ?" said I, as I 
stepped to the kitchen-door, a couple of hours af- 
terwards. 
(102) 



LOTS OF THINGS. ^ 165 

" Thot's me name," replied the new do- 
mestic. 

" I will send home a loin of veal a,nd some 
green peas," said I. " They are for dinner, 
which must be ready at two o'clock. You know 
how to roast a piece of veal, I presume ?" 

" Lave me for thot same, honey !" 

" And the green peas ?" 

" All right, mum. I've lived in quality houses 
since I was so high. I can cook ony thing." 

" Very well, Anna. We will see. I have to 
go out this morning ; and you must do the best 
you can. Don't fail to have dinner ready by 
two o'clock. Mr. Smith is a punctual man." 

Anna was profuse in her promises. 

" If," said I, recollecting myself, as I was about 
opening the street door, and returning along the 
passage, — " If any thing is sent home for me, be 
sure to take it up stairs and lay it carefully on 
my bed." 

" Yes, mum." 

" Now don't forget this, Anna." 

'• Och ! niver fear a hate, mum," was the girl's 
answer. " I'll not forget a word iv y'r insthruc- 
tions." 

I turned away and left the house. My princi- 
pal errand was a visit to the milliner's, where I 
wished to see a bonnet I had ordered, before it 
Avas sent home. It was this bonnet I referred 
to when I desired Anna to place carefully on the 
bed in my chamber, any thing that might come 
home." 

On my way to the milliner's, I stopped at the 
grocer's where we were in the habit of dealing, 



1C6 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER.' 

and made selections of various things that were 
needed. 

Tlie bonnet proved just to my taste. It was 
a delicate white spring bonnet, with a neat trim- 
ming, and pleased my fancy wonderfully. 

'' The ^ery thing," said I, the moment my 
eyes rested upon it. 

" Do you want a box ?" asked the milliner, af- 
ter I had decided to take the bonnet. 

" I have one," was my answer. 

" 0, very well. I will send the bonnet home 
in a box, and you can take it out." 

" That will do." 

*' Shall I send it home this morning ?" 

" If you please." 

" Very well. I'll see that it is done." 

After this I made a number of calls, which oc- 
cupied me until after one o'clock, when I turned 
my face homeward. On arriving, I was admitted 
by my new girl, and, as the thought of my beau- 
tiful bonnet now returned to my mind, my first 
words were : 

'' Has any thing been sent home for me. An- 
na ( 

'' Och ! yis indade, mum," was her answer, — 
'' lots o' things." 

'' Lots of things !" said I, with manifest sur- 
prise ; for I only remembered at the moment my 
direction to the milliner to send home my bon- 
net. 

" Yis, indade !" responded the girl. " Lots. 
And the mon brought 'em on the funniest whale 
barry ye iver seed." 

" On a wheel barrow !" 



LOTS OF THINGS. 167 

'' Yis. And such a whale barry ! It had a 
whale on each side, as I'm a livin' sinner, mum ; 
and a cunnin' little whale in front, cocked 'way 
up intil the air, thot didn't touch nothin' at all — 
at all ! There's no sich whale barrys as thot 
same in Ireland, me leddy !" 

" And what did you do with the lots of things 
brought on this wheel barrow ?" said I, now be- 
ginning to comprehend the girl. 

" Put them on y r bed, sure." 

" On my bed !" I exclaimed, in consternation. 

" Sure, and didn't I remember the last words 
ye spake till me ? ' Anna,' says ye, — ' Anna, if 
ony thing is sent home for me, be sure till take 
it carefully up stairs and lay it on me bed.' And 
I did thot same. Sure, I couldn't have found a 
nicer place, if I gone the house over." 

Turning from the girl, I hurried up stairs. 

It was as I had too good reason to fear. Such 
a sight as met my eyes ! In the centre of my bed, 
with its snowy-white Marseilles covering, were 
piled " lots of things," and no mistake. Sugar, 
tea, cheese, coffee, soap, and various other articles, 
not excepting a bottle of olive oil, from the 
started cork of which was gently oozing a slender 
stream, lay in a jumbled heap ; while, on a satin 
damask-covered chair, reposed a greasy ham. 

For a moment I stood confounded. Then, giv- 
ing the bell a violent jerk, I awaited, in angry 
impatience, the appearance of Anna, who, in due 
time, after going to the street door, found her way 
to my chamber. 

" Anna !" I exclaimed, " what, in the name of 
goodness, possessed you to do this ?" 

"n 



168 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

And T pointed to the bed. 

" Sure, and ye towld me till put them on ye's 
])ed." 

" I told you no such thing, you stupid creature ! 
I said if a bonnet came, to put it on the bed." 

" Och ! sorry a word did ye iver say about a 
bonnet, mum. It's the first time I iver heard 
ony thing about a bonnet from yer blessed lips. 
And thot's thrue." 

'' Where is my bonnet, then ? Did one come 
home ?" 

*• Plase, mum, and there did. And a purty one 
it is, too, as iver my two eyes looked upon." 

" What did you do with it ?" I enquired, with 
a good deal of concern. 

" It's safe in thot great mahogany closet, mum," 
she replied, pointing to my wardrobe. 

I stepped quickly to the '' mahogany closet,'* 
and threw open the door. Alas ! for my poor bon- 
net ! It was crushed in between two of Mr. 
Smith's coats, and tied to a peg, by the strings, 
which were, of course, crumpled to a degree that 
made them useless. 

" Too bad ! Too bad !" I murmured, as I dis- 
engaged the bonnet from its unhappy companion- 
ship with broadcloth. As it came to the light, 
my eyes fell upon two dark spots on the front, 
the unmistakable prints of Anna s greasy fingers. 
This was too much ! I tossed it, in a moment of 
passion, upon the bed, where, in contact with the 
" lots of things," it received its final touch of 
ruin from a portion of the oozing contents of the 
sweet oil bottle. 

Of the scene that followed, and of the lat^, 



LOTS OF THINGS. 169 

badly-cooked dinner to which my husband was 
introduced an hour afterwards, I will not trust 
myself to write. I was not, of course, in a very 
agreeable humor ; and the record of what I said 
and did, and of how I looked, would be in no 
way flattering to my own good opinion of myself, 
nor prove particularly edifying to the reader. 

I shall never forget Anna's new variety of 
" whale-barry," nor the " lots o' things" she de- 
posited on my bed. She lived with me just seven 
days, and then made way for another a little 
more tolerable than herself. 



CHAPTER XX. 

A CURE FOR LOW SPIRITS. 

From some causej real or imaginary, I felt 
low spirited. There was a cloud upon my feel- 
ings, and I could not smile as usual, nor speak 
in a tone of cheerfulness. As a natural result, 
the light of m}^ countenance being gone, all 
things around me were in a shadow. My hus- 
band was sober, and had but little to say ; the 
children w^ould look strangely at me when I an- 
swered their questions or spoke to them for any 
purpose, and the domestics moved about in a 
quiet manner, and wdien they addressed me, did 
so in a tone more subdued than usual. 

This reaction upon my state, only made darker 
the clouds that veiled my spirits. I was con- 
scious of this, and was conscious that the origi- 
nal cause of depression was entirely inadequate, 
in itself, to produce the result which had fol- 
lowed. Under this feeling, I made an efibrt to 
rally myself, but in vain — and sank lower from 
the struggle to i^ise above the gloom that over- 
shadowed me. 

When my husband came home at dinner time, 
I tried to meet him with a smile ; but I felt that 
the light upon my countenance was feeble, and 
of biief duration. He looked at me earnestly, 
and in his kind and gentle way, enquired if 1 
(170) 



A CURE FOR LOW SPIRITS. 171 

felt no better, affecting to believe that my ail- 
ment was one of the body instead of the mind. 
But I scarcely answered him, and I could see 
that he felt hurt. How much more wretched 
did I become at this ? Could I have then retired 
to my chamber, and alone given my heart full 
vent in a passion of tears, I might have obtained 
relief to my feelings. But I could not do this. 

While I sat at the table forcing a little food 
into my mouth for appearance sake, my husband 
said : 

" You remember the fine lad who has been 
with me for some time ?" 

I nodded my head, but the question did not 
awaken in my mind the least interest. 

'' He has not made his appearance for several 
days ', and I learned this morning, on sending to 
the house of his mother, that he is very ill." 

"Ah!" was my indifferent response. Had I 
spoken what was in my mind, I would have 
said, " I'm sorry, but I can't help it." I did 
not at the moment feel the smallest interest in 
the lad. 

" Yes," added my husband, " and the person 
who called to let me know about it, expressed 
his fears that Edward would not get up again." 

" What ails him ?" I enquired. 

" I did not clearly understand. But he has a 
fever of some kind. You remember his mother 
very well ?" 

" Oh, yes. You know she worked for me. 
Edward is her only child, I believe." 

" Yes ; and his loss to her will be almost every- 
thing." 

n3 



172 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEErER. 

" Is he dangerous ?" I enquired, a feeling of 
interest beginning to stir in my heart. 

" He is not ex2)eeted to live." 

" Poor woman ! JIow distressed she must be ! 
I wonder what her circumstances are just at this 
time. She seemed very poor when she worked 
for me." 

" And she is very poor still, I doubt not. vShe 
has herself been sick, and during the time it is 
more than probable that Edward's wages were 
all her income. I am afraid she has not now the 
means of procuring for her sick boy things 
necessary for his comfort. Could you not go 
around there this afternoon, and see how they 
are ?" 

I shook my head instantly at this proposition, 
for sympathy for others was not strong enough 
to expel my selfish despondency of mind. 

" Then I must step around," replied my hus- 
band, " before I go back to business, although I 
have a great deal to do to-day. It would not be 
right to neglect this lad and his mother under 
present circumstances." 

I felt rebuked at these words, and, with an 
effort, said : 

" I will go." 

" It will be much better for ^'ou to see them 
than for me," returned my husband, " for 3^ou 
can understand their wants better, and minister 
to them more effectually. If they need any com- 
forts, I would like to have you see them sup- 
plied." 

It still cost me an effort to get ready, but as I 
had promised to do ns my husband wished, the 



A CURE FOR LOTV SPIRITS. 173 

effort had to be made. By the time I was pre- 
pared to go out, I felt something better. The 
exertion I was required to make, tended to dis- 
perse, shghtly, the clouds that hung over me, and 
as they began gradually to remove, my thoughts 
turned, with an awakened interest, towards the 
object of my husband's solicitude. 

All was silent within the humble abode to 
which my errand led me. I knocked lightly, and 
in a few moments the mother of Edward opened 
the door. She looked pale and anxious. 

" How is your son, Mrs. Ellis ?" I enquired, as 
I stepped in. 

" He is very low, ma'am," she replied. 

" Not dangerous, I hope ?" 

" The fever has left him, but he is as weak as 
an infant. All his strength is gone." 

" But proper nourishment will restore him, 
now that the diseavse is broken." 

" So the doctor says. But I'm afraid it's too 
late. He seems to be sinking every hour. Will 
you walk up and see him ?" 

I followed Mrs. Ellis up stairs, and into a 
chamber, where the sick boy lay. I was not 
sur]3rised at the fear she expressed, when I sav/ 
Edward's pale, sunken face, and hollow, almost 
expressionless eyes. He scarcely noticed my 
entrance. 

" Poor boy !" sighed his mother. " He has had 
a very sick spell." 

My liveliest interest was at once awakened. 

" He has been sick, indeed!" I replied, as I laid 
my hand upon his white forehead. 

I found his skin cold and damp. The fever 



174 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

had nearly burned out the vital energy of his 
system. 

" Do you give him much nourishment ?" 

" He takes a little barley-water." 

" Has not the doctor ordered wine ?" 

" Yes, ma'am," replied Mrs. Ellis, but she spoke 
with an air of hesitation. " He says a spoonful 
of good wine, three or four times a day, would 
be very good for him." 

" And you have not given him any ?* 

" No, ma'am." 

" We have some very pure wine, that we al- 
ways keep for sickness. If you will step over 
to our house, and tell Alice to give you a bottle 
of it, I will stay with Edward until you re- 
turn." 

How brightly glowed that poor woman's face 
as my words fell upon her ears ! 

" 0, ma'am, you are very kind !" said she. 
^^ But it will be asking too much of you to stay 
here !" 

" You didn't ask it, Mrs. Ellis," I simply re- 
plied. " I have oflfered to stay ; so do you go for 
the wine as quickly as you can, for Edward needs 
it very much." 

I was not required to say more. In a few 
minutes I was alone with the sick bo}'^, who lay 
almost as still as if death were resting upon his 
half-closed eye-lids. To some extent during the 
half hour I remained thus in that hushed cham- 
ber, did I realize the condition and feelings of 
the poor mother, whose only son lay gasping at 
the very door of death, and all my sympathies 
were, in consequence, awakened. 



A CURE FOR LOW SPIRITS. 175 

*^ As soon as Mrs. Ellis returned with the wine, 
about a teaspoonful was diluted, and the glass 
containing it placed to the sick lad's lips. The 
moment its flavor touched his palate, a thrill 
seemed to pass through his frame, and he swal- 
lowed eao;erlv. 

" It does him good !" said I, speaking warmly,- 
and from an impulse that made my heart glow. 

We sat and looked with silent interest upon 
the boy's face, and we did not look in vain, for 
something like warmth came upon his wan 
cheeks, and when I placed my hand upon his 
forehead, the coldness and dampness were gone. 
The wine had quickened his languid pulse. I 
stayed an hour longer, and then another spoon- 
ful of the generous wine was given. Its effect 
was as marked as tlie first. I then withdrew 
from the humble home of the widow and her 
only child, promising to see them again in the 
morning. 

When I regained the street, and my thoughts 
for a moment reverted to myself, how did I find 
all changed ? The clouds had been dispersed — 
the heavy load had been raised from my bosom. 
I walked with a free step. 

Sympathy for others, and active efforts to 
do others good, had expelled the evil spirit 
from my heart ; and now serene peace had there 
again her quiet habitation. There was light in 
every part of my dwelling when I re-entered it, 
and I sung cheerfully, as I prepared with my 
own hands, a basket of provisions for the poor 
widow. 

When my husband returned again in the eve- 



176 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

ning, he found me at work, cheerfully, in my 
faniUy, and all bright and smiling again. The 
elforts to do good to others had driven away the 
darkness from my spirit, and the sunshine was 
again on my countenance, and reflected from 
every member of my household. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

A BARGAIN. 

I AM not mucli of a bargain-buyer, having 
had, like most housekeepers, sufficient experi- 
ence on that subject to effect a pretty thorough 
cure of the disease, mild as it was in the begin- 
ning. As all diseases, whether bodily or mental, 
leave behind them a predisposition to return, I 
have, from time to time, been subjected to slight 
paroxisms of the old complaint. From the ef- 
fects of my last rather mild attack, I am now 
recovering. 

I was passing along Walnut street, on my way 
to drop a letter in the Post Office, one morning, 
about ten o'clock, when the ringing of an auc- 
tioneer's bell came suddenly on my ears. Lifting 
my eyes, I saw the flag of Thomas & Son dis- 
played before me, and read the words, " Auction 
this morning." 

Here was an " exciting cause," as the doctors 
say, and, instantly I felt a movement of the old 
affection. Two or three ladies happened to be 
entering the store at the time, and the sudden in- 
clination to follow them was so strong that I did 
not attempt its resistance. It was not my inten- 
tion to buy any thing, of course ; for I was con- 
scious of no particular want. I only just wished, 

(179) 



180 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER.' 

if any wi«h were really full formed, to see what 
was to be sold. 

Scarcelv had I entered the door, when a sofa, 

«/ 7 7 

so nearly new that it hardly bore a mark of hav- 
ing been used, presented itself, and captivated 
my fancy. The one that graced our parlor had 
grown somewhat out of fashion. It was in good 
keeping, but rather plain in style : and, as we 
had recently treated ourselves to handsome new 
carpets, did not appear to quite so good advan- 
tage as before. This one, to be sold at auction, 
was made after a newer pattern, and, as iny eyes 
continued to rest upon it, the desires to have it 
in my parlor was fully formed. 

I have said, that on entering the auction store, 
I was unconscious of any particular want. This 
was true, notwithstanding Mr. Smith and I had, 
a few days before, called at a cabinet maker's 
wareroom, to look at a sofa. In consequence of 
former experience in cheap furniture, we had no 
thought of getting a low-priced article from a 
second or third rate establishment ; but designed, 
when we did purchase, to act wisely and get the 
best. We had been looking at a sofa for which 
sixty-five dollars was asked ; and were hesitating 
between that and another upon which fifty dol- 
lars was set as the price. 

It was but natural, under these circum- 
stances, that I should look upon this sofa with 
more than ordinary interest. A glance told me 
that it was an article of superior make, and a 
close examination fully confirmed this impres- 
sion. 

A few minutes after my entrance, the sale be- 



A BARGAIN. 181 

gun, and it so happened that the sofa came first 
on the list. 

'' We shall begin this morning," said the auc- 
tioneer, with a superior, fashionable sofa, made 

by . It has only been in use a short time, 

and is, in every respect, equal to new." 

All my predilections in favor of the sofa were 
confirmed the moment the manufacturer's name 
was announced. Of course, it was of the best 
material and workmanship. 

" What is bid for this superior sofa, made by 

," went on the salesman, — " Seventy dollars 

— sixty-five — sixty — fifty-five — fifty — forty-five 
— forty — thirty-five — thirty. " 

" Twenty-five dollars," said a timid voice. 

^^ Twenty-five ! Twenty-five !" cried the auc- 
tioneer. 

" Twenty-six," said I. 

The first bidder advanced a dollar on this ; 
then I bid twenty-eight ; he went up to twenty- 
nine, and I made it thirty, at which offer the sofa 
was knocked down to me. 

" That's a bargain, and no mistake," said the 
salesman. " It is worth fifty dollars, if it's worth 
a cent." 

" I'll give you ^ye dollars advance," proposed 
a lady by my side, who had desired to bid, but 
could not bring up her courage to the point. 

'^ No, thank you," was my prompt answer. I 
w^as too well pleased with my bargain. 

When Mr. Smith came home to dinner on 
that day, I met him in the parlor. 

" What do you think of this ?" said I, pointing 

to the new sofa. I spoke in an exultant voice. 

o 



182 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

" Where in the world did it come from ?" en- 
quired Mr. Smith, evincing a natural surprise. 

'^ I bought it," was my reply. 

" When ? where ?" 

"• This morning, at auction." 

" At auction !" 

'* Yes ; and it's a bargain. Now guess what I 
gave for it ?" 

" Ten dollars ?" 

" Now Mr. Smith ! But come -, be serious. 
Isn't it cheap at forty dollars ?" 

Mr. Smith examined the sofa with care, and 
then gave it as his opinion that it wasn't dear 
at forty dollars. 

" I got it for thirty," said I. 

" Indeed ! I should really call that a bargain, 
— j)i'o^'i^^^^ yo^ don't discover in it, after a while, 
some defect." 

" I've looked at every part, over and over 
again," was my response to this, " and can find 
a defect nowhere. None exists, I am satisfied." 

" Time will show," remarked Mr. Smith. 
There was the smallest perceptible doubt in his 
tone. 

Next morning, on going into my parlors, I was 
a little worried to see two or three moths flying 
about the room. They were despatched witli 
commendable quickness. On the morning that 
followed, the same thing occurred again ; and 
this was repeated, morning after morning. More- 
over, in a few days, these insects, so dreaded by 
housekeepers, showed themselves in the cham- 
bers above. Up to tliis time, I had neglected to 
put away my furs, a new set of which had been 



A BARGAIN. 183 

purchased during the previous winter. I delayed 
this no longer. 

Kouse-cleaning time had now arrived. My 
new carpets were taken up and packed away, to 
give pla^e to the cooler matting. Our winter 
clothing also received attention, and was de- 
2)osited in chests and closets for the summer, 
duly provided with all needful protection from 
moths. After this came the calm of rest and 
self-satisfaction. 

One day, about the middle of July, a lady 
friend called in to see me. 

" That's a neat sofa, Mrs. Smith," said she, in 
the pause of a conversation. 

'' I think it very neat," was my answer. 

" It's made from the same pattern with one 
that I had. One that I always liked, and from 
which I was sorry to part." 

"You sold it?" said I. 

" Yes. I sent it to auction." 

" Ah ! Why so ?" 

" I discovered, this spring, that the moth had 
got into it." 

" Indeed !" 

" Yes. They showed themselves, every day, 
in such numbers, in my parlors, that I became 
alarmed for my carpets. I soon traced their ori- 
gin to the sofa, which was immediately packed 
off to auction. I was sorry to part with it ; but, 
there was no other effective remedy." 

'^ You lost on the sale, I presume," I ventured 
to remark. 

" Yes ; that was to be expected. It cost sixty 
dollars, and brought only thirty. But this loss 



184 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

was to be preferred to the destruction such an 
army of moth as it was sending forth, would 
have occasioned." 

I changed the subject, dexterously, having 
heard quite enough about the sofa to satisfy me 
that my bargain was likely to prove a bad one. 

All the summer, I was troubled with visions 
of moth-eaten carpets, furs, shawls, and over- 
coats ; and they proved to be only the fore- 
shadowing of real things to come, for, when, in 
the fall, the contents of old chests, boxes, drawers, 
and dark closets w^ere brought forth to the light, 
a state of aiiairs truly frightful to a housekeeper, 
was presented. One of the breadths of my 
handsome carpet had tlie pile so eaten off in con- 
spicuous places, that no remedy was left but the 
purchase and substitution of a new one, at a 
cost of nearly ten dollars. In dozens of places 
the texture of the carpet was eaten entirely 
through. I was, as my lady readers may natu- 
rally suppose, very unhappy at this. But, the 
evil by no means found a limit here. On open- 
ino; mv fur boxes, I found that the work of de- 
struction had been going on there also. A single 
shake of the mutf, threw little fibres and flakes 
of fur in no stinted measure upon the air ; and, 
on dashing my hand hard against it, a larger 
mass was detached, showing the skin bare and 
white beneath. My furs were ruined. They 
had cost seventy dollars, and were not worth ten ! 

A still further examination into our stock of 
winter clothing, showed that the work of de- 
struction had extended to almost every article. 
Scarcely any thing had escaped. 



/ 



A BAKGAIN. 185 

Troubled, worried, and unhappy as I was, I 
yet concealed from Mr. Smith the origin of all 
this ruin. He never suspected our cheap sofa 
for a moment. After I had, by slow degrees, re- 
covered from my chagrin and disappointment, my 
thoughts turned, naturally, upon a disposition of 
the sofa. What was to be done with it ? As to 
keeping it over another season, that was not to 
be thought of for a moment. But, would it be 
right, I asked myself, to send it back to auction, 
and let it thus go into the possession of some 
housekeeper, as ignorant of its real character as 
I had been ? I found it very hard to reconcile 
my conscience to such a disposition of the sofa. 
And there was still another difficulty in the way. 
What excuse for parting with it could I make to 
Mr. Smith ? He had never suspected that arti- 
cle to be the origination of all the mischief and 
loss we had sustained. 

Winter began drawing to a close, and still the 
sofa remained in its place, and still was I in per- 
plexity as to what should be done with it. 

" Business requires me to go to Charleston," 
said Mr. Smith, one day late in February. 

" How long will you be away ?" was my natu- 
ral enquiry. 

" From ten days to two weeks," replied Mr. 
Smith. 

"So long as that?" 

" It will hardly be possible to get home earlier 
than the time I have mentioned." 

" You go in the Osprey ?" 

" Yes. She sails day after to-morrow. So you 
will have all ready for me, if you please." 



0-4 



18G CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

Never before had the announcement of my 
husband that he had to go away on business 
given me pleasure. The moment he said that he 
would be absent, the remedy for my difficulty 
suiraested itself. 

The very day Mr. Smith sailed in the steamer 
for Charleston, I sent for an upholsterer, and 
after explaining to him the defect connected with 
mv sofa, directed him to have the seatin^: all re- 
moved, and then replaced by new materials, 
taking particular care to thoroughly cleanse the 
inside of the wood work, lest the vestige of a 
moth should be left remaining. 

All this was done, at a cost of twenty dollars. 
When Mr. Smith returned, the sofa was back in 
its place, and he was none the wiser for the 
change, until some months afterwards, when, un- 
able to keep the secret any longer, I told him the 
whole storv. 

ft/ 

I am pretty well cured, I think now, of bar- 
gain-buying. 



CHAPTER XXIL 

A PEEVISH DAY AKD ITS CONSEQUENCES. 

There are few housekeepers who have not 
had their sick and peevish days. I have had 
mine, as the reader will see by the following 
story, which I some time since ventured to re- 
late, in the third person, and w^hich I now take 
the liberty of introducing into these confes- 
sions. 

" It is too bad, Rachel, to put me to all this 
trouble ; and v^ou know I can hardly hold up my 
head." 

Thus spoke Mrs. Smith, in a peevish voice, to 
a quiet looking domestic, who had been called 
up from the kitchen to supply some unimportant 
omission in the breakfast table arrangement. 

Rachel looked hurt and rebuked, but made no 
reply. 

" How could you speak in that way to Rachel?" 
said Mr. Smith, as soon as the domestic had 
withdrawn. 

" If you felt just as I do, Mr. Smith, you 
would speak cross, too !" Mrs. Smith replied a 
little warmly — " I feel just like a rag 3 and my 
head aches as if it would burst." 

" I know you feel badly, and I am very sorry 
for you. But still, I suppose it is as easy to speak 

(187) 



188 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

kindly as harshly. Rachel is very obliging and 
attentive, and should be borne with in occa- 
sional omissions, which you of course know are 
not wilful." 

" It is easy enough to preach," retorted Mrs. 
Smith, whose temper, from bodily lassitude and 
pain, was in quite an irritable state. The reader 
will understand at least one of the reasons of 
this, when he is told that the scene here pre- 
sented occurred during tlie last oppressive week 
in August 

Mr. Smith said no more. He saw that to do 
so would only be to provoke instead of quieting 
his wife's ill humor. The morning meal went 
by in silence, but little food passing the lips of 
either. How could it, when the thermometer 
was ninety-four at eight o'clock in the morning, 
and the leaves upon the trees were as motionless 
as if suspended in a vacuum. Bodies and minds 
were relaxed — and the one turned from ibod, as 
the other did from thought, with an instinctive 
aversion. 

After Mr. Smith had left his home for his 
place of business, Mrs. Smith went up into her 
chamber, and threw herself upon the bed, her 
head still continuing to ache with great violence. 
It so happened that a week before, the chamber- 
maid had gone away, sick, and all the duties of 
the household had in consequence devolved upon 
Rachel, herself not very well. Cheerfully, how- 
ever, had she endeavored to discharge tliese ac- 
cimiulated duties, and but for the unhappy, 
peevish state of mind in which Mrs. Smith in- 
dulged, would have discharged them without a 



PEEVISH DAY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 189 

murmuring thought. But, as she was a faithful, 
conscientious woman, and, withal, sensitive in 
her feelings, to be found fault with, worried her 
exceedingly. Of this Mrs. Smith was well 
aware, and had, until the latter part of the try- 
ing month of August, acted towards Rachel with 
consideration and forbearance. But the last 
week of August was too much for her. The 
sickness of the chamber maid threw such heavy 
duties upon Rachel, whose daily headaches and 
nervous relaxation of body were borne without 
a complaint, that their perfect performance was 
almost impossible. Slight omissions, which were 
next to unavoidable, under the circumstances, 
became so annoying to Mrs. Smith, herself, as it 
has been seen, laboring' under great bodily and 
mental prostration, that she could not bear 
them. 

" She knows better, and she could do better, 
if she chose," was her rather uncharitable com- 
ment, often inwardly made on the occurrence of 
some new trouble. 

After Mr. Smith had taken his departure on 
the morning just referred to, Mrs. Smith went 
up into her chamber, as has been seen, and threw 
herself languidly upon a bed, pressing her hands 
to her throbbing temples, as she did so, and mur- 
muring : 

" I can't live at this rate 1" 

At the same time, Rachel sat down in the 
kitchen the large waiter upon which she had ar- 
ran2:ed the dishes from the breakfast table, and 
then sinking into a chair, pressed one hand upon 
her forehead, and sat for more than a minute in 



190 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

troubled silence. It had been three days since 
she had received from Mrs. Smith a pleasant 
word, and the last remark, made to her a short 
time before, had been the unkiudest of all. At 
another time, even all this would not have moved 
her — she could have perceived that Mrs. Smith 
was not in a right state — that lassitude of body 
had produced a temjDorary infirmity of mind. 
But, being herself affected by the oppressive 
season almost as much as her mistress, she could 
not make these allowances. While still seated, 
the chamber bell was rung with a quick, startling 
jerk. 

" What next ?" peevishly ejaculated Rachel, 
and then slowly proceeded to obey the sum- 
mons. 

" How could you leave my chamber in such a 
condition as this ?" was the salutation that met 
her ear, as she entered the j^resence of Mrs. 
Smith, who, half raised upon the bed, and lean- 
ing upon her hand, looked the very personifica- 
tion of languor, peevishness, and ill-humor. 
" You had plenty of time while we were eating 
breakfast to have put things a little to rights !" 

To this Rachel made no reply, but turned 
away and went back into the kitchen. She had 
scarcely reached that spot, before the bell rang 
again, louder and quicker than before ; but she 
did not answer it. In about three minutes it 
was jerked with an energy that snapped the 
wire, but Rachel was immovable. Five minutes 
elapsed, and then Mrs. Smith, fully aroused from 
the lethargy that had stolen over her, came down 
with a quick, firm step. 



A PEEVISH DAY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 191 

" What's the reason you didn't answer my bell ? 
say ?" she asked, in an excited voice. 

Rachel did not reply. 

" Do you hear me ?" 

Rachel had never been so treated before ; she 
had lived with Mrs. Smith for three j^ears, and 
had rarely been found fault with. She had been 
too strict in regard to the performance of her 
duty to leave much room for even a more exact- 
ing mistress to find fault j but now, to be over- 
tasked and sick, and to be chidden, rebuked, and 
even angrily assailed, was more than she could 
well bear. She did not suffer herself to speak 
for some moments, and then her voice trembled, 
and the tears came out upon her cheeks. 

" I wish you to get another in my place. I 
find I don't suit you. My time will be up day 
after to-morrow." 

" Very well," was Mrs. Smith's firm reply, as 
she turned away, and left the kitchen. 

Here was trouble in good earnest. Often and 
often had Mrs. Smith said, during the past two 
or three years — " What should I do without 
Rachel?" And now she had given notice that 
she was going to leave her, and under circum- 
stances which made pride forbid a request to stay. 
Determined to act cut her part of the business 
with firmness and decision, she dressed herself 
and went out, hot and oppressive as it w^as, and 
took her way to an intelligence ofiice, where 
she paid the required fee, and directed a cook 
and chamber maid to be sent to her. On the 
next morning, about ten o'clock, an Irish girl 
came and offered herself as a cook, and was, 



192 CONFESSIONS OF A UOUSEKEEPER. 

after sundry questions and answers, engaged. 
So soon as this negotiation was settled, Kachel 
retired from the kitchen, leaving the new-comer 
in full possession. In half an hour after she re- 
ceived her wages, and left, in no very happy 
frame of mind, a home that had been for three 
years, until within a few days, a pleasant one. 
As foi Mrs. Smith, she was ready to go to bed 
sick ; b at this was impracticable. Nancy, the 
new cook, had exjDressly stipulated that she was 
to have no duties unconnected with the kitchen. 
The consequence was, that, notwithstanding the 
thermometer ranged above ninety, and the at- 
mosphere remained as sultry as air from a heated 
oven, Mrs. Smith was compelled to arrange her 
chamber and parlors. By the time this was done, 
she was in a condition to go to bed, and lie until 
dinner time. The arrival of this important pe- 
riod brought new troubles and vexations. Dinner 
was late by forty minutes, and then came on the 
table in a most abominaljle condition. A fine 
sirloin was burnt to a crisp. The tomatoes were 
smoked, and the potatoes watery. As if this 
were not enough to mar the pleasure of the din- 
ner hour for a hungry husband, Mrs. Smith added 
thereto a distressed countenance and discouraging 
complaints. Nancy was grumbled at and scold- 
ed every time she had occasion to appear in the 
room, and her single attempt to excuse herself 
on account of not understanding the cook stove, 
was met by : 

" Do hush, will you ! I'm out of all pa- 
tience !" 

As to the latter part of the sentence, that 



A PEEVISH DAY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 193 

was a needless waste of words. The condition 
of mind she described was fully apparent. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon, just as 
Mrs. Smith had found a temporary relief from a 
troubled mind and a most intolerable headache, 
in sleep, a tap on the chamber door awoke her^ 
there stood Nancy, all equij^ped for going out. 

" I find I won't suit you, ma'am," said Nancy, 
" and so you must look out for another girl." 

Having said this, she tr??ned away and took 
her departure, leaving Min." Smith in a state of 
mind, as it is said, " more easily imagined than 
described." 

" dear ! what shall I do !" at length broke 
from her lips, as she burst into tears, and bury- 
ing her face in the pillow, sobbed aloud. Already 
she had repented of her fretfulness and fault- 
finding temper, as displayed towards Rachel, and 
could she have made a truce with pride, or 
silenced its whispers, would have sent for her 
well-tried domestic, and endeavored to make all 
fair with her again. But, under the circum- 
stances, this was now impossible. While yet 
undetermined how to act, the street bell rung, and 
she was compelled to attend the door, as she 
was now alone in the house. She found, on 
opening it, a rough-looking country girl, who 
asked if she were the lady who wanted a cham- 
ber maid. Any kind of help was better than 
none at all, and so Mrs. Smith asked the young 
woman to walk in. In treating with her in re- 
gard to her qualifications for the situation she 
applied for, she discovered that she knew " al- 
most nothing at all about a.nv thing." The 

P 



194 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

stipulation that she was to he a door-of-all-work- 
iii-geiieral, until a cook could be obtained, was 
readily agreed to, and then she was shown to 
her room in the attic, where she prepared her- 
self for entering upon her duties. 

" Will you please, ma'am, show me what you 
want me to do ?" asked the new help, presenting 
herself before Mrs. Smith. 

" Go mto the kitchen, Ellen, and see that the 
fire is made. I'll be down there presently." 

To be compelled to see after a new and igno- 
rant servant, and direct her in every thing, just 
at so trying a season of the year, and while her 
mind was " all out of sorts," was a severe task 
for poor Mrs. Smith. She found that Ellen, as 
she had too good reason for believing, was totally 
unacquainted with kitchen work. She did not 
even know how to kindle a coal fire ; nor could 
she manage the stove after Mrs. Smith had made 
the fire for her. All this did not in any way 
tend to make her less unhappy or more patient 
than before. On retirins: for the niaht, she had 
a high fever, which continued unabated until 
morning, when her husband found her really ill; 
so much so as to make the attendance of a doc- 
tor necessary. 

A change in the air had taken place during 
the night, and the temperature had fallen many 
degrees. This aided the efforts of the physician, 
and enabled him so to adapt his remedies as to 
speedily break the fever. But the ignorance and 
awkwardness of Ellen, apparent in her attempts 
to arrange her ])ed and diamine r, so worried her 
mind, tliat she was near relapsing into her for- 



A PEEVISH DAY AND iTS CONSEQUENCES. 195 

mer feverish and excited state. Tlie attendance 
of an elder maiden sister was just in time. All 
care was taken from her thoughts, and she had 
a chance of recovering a more healthy tone of 
mind and body. During the next week, she 
knew little or nothing of how matters were pro- 
gressing out of her own chamber. A new cook 
had been hired, of whom she was pleased to hear 
good accounts, although she had not seen her, 
and Ellen, under the mild and judicious instruc- 
tion of her sister, had learned to make up a bed 
neatly, to sweep, and dust in true style, and to 
perform all the little etceteras of chamber-work 
greatly to her satisfaction. She was, likewise, 
good tempered, willing, and to all appearances 
strictly trust-worthy. 

One morning, about a week after she had be- 
come too ill to keep up, she found herself so far 
recovered as to be able to go down stairs to 
breakfast. Every thing upon the table she 
found arranged in the neatest style. The food 
was well cooked, especially some tender rice 
cakes, of which she was very fond. 

" Really, these are delicious !" said she, as the 
finely flavored cakes almost melted in her mouth. 
"And this coffee is just the thing! How fortu- 
nate we have been to obtain so good a cook ! I 
was afraid we should never be able to replace 
Rachel. But even she is equalled, if not sur- 
passed." 

" Still she does not surpass Rachel," said Mr. 
Smith, a little gravely. " Rachel was a treasure." 

" Indeed she was. And I have been sorry 
enough I ever let her go," returned Mrs. Smith 



196 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. . 

At that moment a new cook entered with a 
phate of warm cakes. 

'^ Rachel !" ejacukited Mrs. Smitli, letting her 
knife and fork fall. " How do you do ? I am 
glad to see you ! Welcome home again !" 

As she spoke quickly and earnestly, she held 
out her hand, and grasped that of her old do- 
mestic warmly. Rachel could not speak, but as 
she left the room she put her apron to her eyes. 
Hers were not the only ones dim with rising 
moisture. 

For at least a year to come, both Mrs. Smith 
and her excellent cook will have no cause to 
complain of each other. How they will get 
along during the last w^eek of next August, we 
cannot say, but hope the lesson they have both 
received will teach them to bear and forbear. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

WORDS, 

" The foolish thing !" said my aunt Rachel, 
speaking warmly, " to get hurt at a mere word. 
It's a little hard that people can't open their lips 
but somebody is offended." 

a Words are things !" said I, smiling. 

" Yery light things ! A person must be ten- 
der, indeed, that is hurt by a word." 

" The very lightest thing may hurt, if it falls 
on a tender place." 

" I don't like people who have these tender 
places," said aunt Rachel. " I never get hurt at 
what is said to me. No — never ! To be ever 
picking and mincing, and chopping off your 
words — to be afraid to say this or that — for fear 
somebody will be offended ! I can't abide it !" 

" People who have these tender places can't 
help it, I suppose. This being so, ought we not 
to regard their weakness ?" said I. " Pain, either 
of body or mind, is hard to bear, and we should 
not inflict it causelessly." 

"People who are so w^onderfully sensitive," 
repUed aunt Rachel, growing warmer, " ought to 
shut themselves up at home, and not come among 
sensible, good tempered persons. As far as I am 
concerned, I can tell them, one and all, that I 
am not going to pick out every hard word 

p2 (197) 



198 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

from a sentence as carefully as I would seeds 
from a raisin. Let them crack them with their 
teeth, if they are afraid to swallow them 
whole." 

Now, for all that aunt Rachel went on after 
this strain, she was a kind, good soul, in the 
main, and I could see, was sorry for having hurt 
the feelings of Mary Lane. But she didn't like 
to acknowledge that she was in the wrong ; that 
would detract too much from the self-compla- 
cency with which she regarded herself Know- 
ing her character very well, I thought it best not 
to continue the little argument about the impor- 
tance of words, and so changed the subject. But, 
every now and then, aunt Rachel would return 
to it, each time softening a little towards Mary. 
At last she said : 

" I'm sure it was a little thing. A very little 
thing. She might have known that nothing un- 
kind was intended on my part." 

"There are some subjects, aunt," I replied, 
" to which we cannot bear the slightest allusion. 
And a sudden reference to them is very apt to 
throw us off of our guard. What you said to 
Mary, has, in all probability, touched some weak- 
ness of character, or probed some w^ound that 
time has not been able to heal. I have always 
tliought her a sensible, good natured girl." 

" And so have L But I really cannot think 
that she has shown her good sense or good na- 
ture in the present case. It is a very bad failing 
this, of being over sensitive; and exceedingly 
annoying to one's friends." 

" It iS; I know ; but still, all of us have a weak 



WORDS. 199 

point, and when that is assailed, we are very 
apt to betray our feehngs." 

" Well, I say now, as I have always said — I 
don't like to have any thing to do with people 
who have these weak points. This being hurt 
by a word, as if words were blows, is something 
that does not come within the range of my sym- 
pathies." 

" And yet, aunt," said I, " all have weak points. 
Even you are not entirely free from them." 

" Me !" aunt Rachel bridled. 

" Yes ; and if even as light a thing as a word 
were to fall upon them, you would suffer pain." 

" Pray, ma'am," said aunt Rachel, with much 
dignity of manner ; she was chafed by my words, 
light as they were ; " inform me where these 
weaknesses, of which you are pleased to speak, 
lie?" 

" Oh, no ; you must excuse me. That would 
be very much out of place. But I only stated 
a general fact that appertains to all of us." 

Aunt Rachel looked very grave. I had laid 
the weight of words upon a weakness of her 
character, and it had given her pain. That 
weakness was a peculiarly good opinion of her- 
self I had made no allegation against her; and 
there was none in my mind. My words simply 
expressed the general truth that we all have 
weaknesses, and included her in their application. 
But she imagined that I referred to some par- 
ticular defect or fault, and mail-proof as she was 
against words, they had wounded her. 

For a day or two, aunt Rachel remained more 
sober than was her wont. I knew the cause, but 



200 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

did not attempt to remove from her miiid any 
impression my words had made. One day, about 
a week after, I said to her : 

'' Aunt Kachel, I saw Mary Lane's mother this 
morning." 

" Ah ?" The old lady looked up at me en- 
quiringly. 

" I don't wonder your words hurt the poor 
girl," I added. 

" Why ? What did I say ?" quickly asked 
aunt Eachel. 

" You said that she was a jilt." 

" But I was only in jest, and she knew it. I 
did not really mean any thing. I'm surprised 
that Mary should be so foolish." 

" You will not be surj^rised when you know 
all," was my answer. 

" All ? What all ? I'm sure I wasn't in ear- 
nest. I didn't mean to hurt the poor girl's feel- 



mgs." 



My aunt looked very much troubled. 

'^ No one blames you, aunt Rachel," said I. 
" Mary knows you didn't intend wounding her." 

" But why should she take a little word so 
much to heart ? It must have had more truth 
in it than I supposed." 

" Did you know that Mary refused an offer of 
]narriage from Walter Green, last week ?" 

'^ Why, no ! It can't be possible ! Refused 
Walter Green ?" 

" Yes." 

'" Tliey've been intimate for a long time." 

" I know." 

" She certainly encouraged him." 



WORDS. 201 

" I think it more than probable. 

" Is it possible, then, that she did really jilt 
the young man ?" exclaimed amit Rachel. 

" This has been said of her/' I replied. " But, 
as far as I can learn, she was really attached to 
him, and suffered great pain in rejecting his offer. 
Wisely she regarded marriage as the most impor- 
tant event of her life, and refused to make so 
solemn a contract with one in whose principles 
she had not the fullest confidence." 

" But she ought not to have encouraged Walter, 
if she did not intend marrying him," said aunt 
Rachel, with some warmth. 

" She encouraged him so long as she thought 
well of him. A closer view revealed points of 
character hidden by distance. When she saw 
these, her feelings were already deeply involved. 
But, like a true woman, she turned from the 
proffered hand, even though, while in doing so, 
her heart palpitated with pain. There is nothing 
false about Mary Lane. She could no more trifle 
with a lover than she could commit a crime. 
Think, then, how almost impossible it would be 
for her to hear herself called, under existing cir- 
cumstances, even in sport, a jilt, without being 
hurt. Words sometimes have power to hurt more 
than blows. Do vou not see this now, aunt 
Rachel T 

" Oh, yes, yes. I see it ; and I saw it before," 
said the old lady. " And, in future, I will be 
more careful of my words. It is pretty late in 
life to learn this lesson — but we are never too 
late to learn. Poor Mary ! It grieves me to 
think that I should have hurt her so much/' 



202 CONFESSIONS UF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

Yes, words often have in them a smarting 
force, and we cannot be too guarded how we 
use them. " Think twice before you speak 
once," is a trite, but wise saying. We teach it 
to our children very carefully, but are too apt 
to forget that it has not lost its application to 
ourselves. 



CHAPTER XXIY. 

MAY BE SO. 

" Next time you go out, you'll buy me a wa- 
gon, won't you, mother ?" said my little boy to 
me, one day. 

I didn't want to say "no," and destroy his 
happy feelings ; and I was not prepared to say 
" yes ;" and so I gave the evasive reply so often 
used under such circumstances, " May be so," 
and which was meant rather as a negative than 
an affirmative. The child was satisfied ; for he 
gave my words the meaning he wished them to 
have. In a little while after, I had forgotten all 
about it. Not so my boy. To him the " May 
be so" was " yes," and he set his heart, confident- 
ly, on receiving the wagon the next time I should 
go out. This happened on the afternoon of that 
very day. It was towards evening when I re- 
turned. The moment I rung the bell at my own 
door, I heard his pattering feet and gleeful voice 
in the entry. 

" Where's my wagon ?" said he, as I entered, 
a shade of disappointment falling suddenly upon 
his excited, happy face. 

" What wagon, dear ?" I asked. 

" My wagon. The wagon y-ou promised to 
buy me." 

" I didn't promise to buy a wagon^, my son." 

(203) 



204 CONFESSIONS OF A IIOUSEKEEFER. 

" Oh, yes 3^ou did, mother ! You promised me 
this morning." 

Tears were already in his eye, and his face wore 
a look of distressing disappointment. 

" I joromised to buy you a wagon ? I am sure 
I remember nothing about it," I replied confi- 
dently. AVhat in the world put that into your 
head ?" 

" Didn't I ask you ?" said the child, the tears 
now overflowing his cheeks. 

" Yes, I believe you did ask me something 
about a wagon ; but I didn't promise to buy you 
one." 

" Oh, yes you did, mother. You said may be 
so." 

" But ^ may be so' doesn't mean yes." 

At this the little fellow uttered a distressing 
cry. His heart was almost broken by disappoint- 
ment. He had interpreted xny words according 
to his ownw^ishes, and not according to their real 
meaning. 

Unprepared for an occurrence of this kind, I 
was not in the mood to sympathise with my 
child fully. To be met thus, at the moment of 
my return home, disturbed me. 

" I didn't promise to buy you a wagon ; and 
you must stop crying about it," said T, seeing 
that he had given way to his feelings, and was 
crvini:^ in a loud voice. 

But he cried on. I went up stairs to lay off 
my things, and he followed, still crying. 

" You must hush, now," said I, more positive- 
ly. " I cannot permit tliis. I never promised to 
buy you a wagon." 



MAY BE SO. 205 

^•' You said may be so," sobbed the child. 

" May be so, and yes, are two different things. 
If I had said that I would buy you a wagon, 
then there would have been some reason in your 
disappointment ; but I said no such thing." 

He had paused to listen; but, as I ceased 
speaking, his crying was renewed. 

" You must stop this now. There is no use 
in it, and I will not have it," said I, resolutely. 

My boy choked down for a few moments at 
this, and half stifled his grief; but o'ermastering 
him, it flowed on again as wildly as ever. I felt 
impatient. 

" Stop this moment, I say !" And I took hold 
of his arm firmly. My will is strong, and when 
a httle excited, it often leads me beyond where I 
would go in moments of reflection. My boy knew 
this by experience. By my manner of speaking 
he saw that I was in earnest, and that, if he did 
not obey me, punishment would follow. So, with 
what must have been a powerful effort for one 
so young, he stifled the utterance of his grief. 
But, the storm within raged none the less vio- 
lently, and I could see his little frame quiver 
as he strove to repress the rising sobs. 

Turning away from me, he went and sat down 
on a low seat in a corner of the room. I saw his 
form in the glass as I stood before it to arrange 
my hair, after laying aside my bonnet ; and for 
the first time my feelings were touched. There 
was an abandonment in his whole attitude ; an 
air of grief about him that affected me with pity 
and tenderness. 

" Poor child !" I sighed. " His heart is ahnost 

Q 



20C CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

broken. I ought to have said yes or no ; and 
then all would have been settled." 

" Come/' said I, after a few moments, reach- 
inn; my hand towards the child — " let us "o down 
and look out for father. He will be home soon." 

I spoke kindly and cheerfully. But he neither 
moved, looked up, nor gave the smallest sign that 
he heard me. 

" Oh, well," said I, with some impatience in 
my voice — " it doesn't matter at all. If you'd 
rather sit there than come down into the parlor 
and look out for dear father, you can please your- 
self." 

And turning away as I spoke, I left the cham- 
ber, and went down stairs. Seating myself at a 
window^, I looked forth and endeavored to feel 
unconcerned and cheerful. But, this was bej-ond 
my power. I saw nothing but the form of my 
grieving child, and could think of nothing but 
his sorrow and disappointment. 

" Nancy," said I to one of my domestics, who 
happened to come into the parlor to ask me some 
question, " I w^ish you would run down to the toy 
^tore in the next block, and buy Neddy a wagon. 
His heart is almost broken about one." 

The girl, always willing, when kindly spoken 
to, ran oH' to obey my w^ishes, and in a little while 
came back with the article wanted. 

" Now," said I, " go up into my room and tell 
Neddy that I've got something for him. Don't 
mention the wagon ; I want to take him by sur- 
prise." 

Nancy went bounding up the stairs, and I 
placed the wagon in the centre of the room, 



• MAY BE SO. 207 

where it would meet the child's eyes on the mo- 
ment of his entrance, and then sat down to await 
his coming, and enjoy his surprise and delight. 

After the lapse of about a minute, I heard 
Nancy coming down slowly. 

" Neddy's asleep," said she, looking in at the 
door. 

" Asleep !" I felt greatly disappointed. 

" Yes, ma'am. He w^as on the floor asleep. I 
took him up, and laid him in your bed." 

" Then he's over his troubles," said I, attempt- 
ing to find a relief for my feelings in this utter- 
ance. But no such relief came. 

Taking the wagon in my hand, I went up to 
the chamber where he lay, and bent over him. 
The signs of grief were still upon his innocent 
face, and every now and then a faint sigh or sob 
gave evidence that even sleep had not yet hushed, 
entirely, the storm which had swept over him. 

" Neddy !" I spoke to him in a voice of tender- 
ness, hoping that my ^vords might reach his ear. 
" Neddy, dear, I've bought you a w^agon." 

But his senses were locked. Taking him up, 
I undressed him, and then, after kissing his lips, 
brow, and cheeks, laid him in his little bed, and 
placed the wagon on the pillow beside him. 

Even until the late hour at which I retired on 
that evening, were my feelings oppressed by the 
incident I have described. My " May be so," ut- 
tered in order to avoid giving the direct answer 
my child wanted, had occasioned him far more 
pain than a positive refusal of his request could 
have done. 

'' I will be more careful in future," said I, as I 



208 CONFESSIONS OF a HOUSEKEEPER. 

lay thinking about the occurrence, " how I create 
false hopes. My yea shall be yea, and my nay 
nay. Of these cometh not evil." 

In the morning when I awoke, I found Neddy 
in possession of his wagon. He was running 
with it around the room, as happy as if a tear 
had never been upon his cheek. I looked at him 
for many minutes without speaking. At last, see- 
ing that I was awake, he bounded up to the bed- 
side, and, kissing me, said : 

" Thank you, dear mother, for buying me this 
wagon ! You are a good mother !" 

I must own to having felt some doubts on the 
subject of Neddy's compliment at the time. Since 
this little experience, I have been more careful 
how I answer the petitions of my children ; and 
avoid the " May be so," " I'll see about it," and 
other such evasive answers that come so readily 
to the lips. The good result I have experienced 
in many instances. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

"the poor child died." 

My baby, nine months old, had some fever, 
and seemed very unwell. One neighbor said : 

" You'd better send for the doctor." 

"Another suggestedT that it had, no doubt, 
eaten something that disagreed with it, and that 
a little antimonial wme would enable it to 
throw it off; another advised a few grains of 
calomel, and another a dose of rheubarb. But 
I said : 

" No. I'll wait a little while, and see if it 
won't get better." 

" You should give him medicine in time. 
Many a person dies from not taking medicine in 
time ;" said a lady who expressed more than 
usual concern for the well-being of my baby. 
She had a very sick child herself. 

" Many more die," I replied, " from taking 
medicine too soon. I beHeve that, one half of the 
diseases in the world are produced by medicines, 
and that the other half are often made worse by 
their injudicious administration." 

^' You'd better send for the doctor," urged the 
lady. 

" No. I'll wait until the morning, and then, 
if he's no better, or should be worse, I'll call in 
our physician. Children often appear very sick 

q2 (209) 



210 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

one hour, and are comparatively well again in 
the next." 

" It's a great risk/' said the lady, gravely. " A 
very great risk. I called in the doctor the 
moment my dear little Eddy began to droop 
about. And it's well I did. He's near death's 
door as it is; and without medical aid I would 
certainly have lost him before this. He's only 
been sick a week, and you know yourself how 
low he is reduced. AYhere do you think he would 
have been without medicine? The disease has 
taken a terrible hold of him. Why, the doctor 
has bled him twice ; and his little chest is raw 
all over from a blister. He has been cupped and 
leeched. We have had mustard plasters upon 
his arms and the calves of his legs. I don't know 
how many grains of calomel he has taken; and 
it has salivated him dreadfully. Oh ! such a sore 
mouth ! Poor child ! He suffers dreadfully. 
Besides, he has taken some kind of powder almost 
every hour. They are dreadfully nauseous ; and 
we have to hold him, every time, and pour them 
down his throat. Oh, dear ! It makes my heart 
sick. Now, with all this, the disease hangs on 
almost as bad as ever. Suppose we hadn't sent 
for the doctor at first ? Can't you see what 
would have been the consequence ? It is very 
wrong to put off calling in a physician upon the 
first symptoms of a disease." 

" Pardon me, Mrs. Lee, for saying so," was my 
reply, but I cannot help thinking that, if you had 
not called the doctor, your child would have been 
quite well to-day." 

Mrs. Lee — that was the ladv's name — uttered 



"the poor child died." 211 

an exclamation of surprise and disapproval of 
my remark. 

" But. cannot you see, yourself, that it is not 
the disease that has reduced your child so low. 
The bleeding, blistering, cupping, leeching, and 
calomel administrations, would have done all 
this, had your child been perfectly well when it 
went into the doctor's hands." 

" But the disease would hare killed him in- 
evitably. If it requires all this to break it, don't 
you see that it must have taken a most fatal hold 
on the poor child's system." 

" No, Mrs. Lee, I cannot see any such thing," 
was my reply. " The medicine probably fixed 
the disease, that would, if left alone, have retired 
of itself. What does the doctor say ails the 
child ?" 

" He does not seem to know. There seems to 
be a complication of diseases." 

" Produced by the treatment, no doubt. If 
there had been scarlet fever, or small pox, or 
croup, active and energetic treatment would, 
probably, have been required, and the doctor 
would have known what he was about in admin- 
istering his remedies. But, in a slight indispo- 
sition, like that from which your child suffered, 
it is, in my opinion, always better to give no 
medicine for a time. Drugs thrown into the 
tender system of a child, will always produce 
disease of some kind, more or less severe ; and 
where slight disorders already exist,* they are apt 
to give them a dangerous hold upon the body, 
or, uniting with them, cause a most serious, and, 
at times, fatal illness." 



212 CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

But Mrs. Lee shook her head. She thought 
the doctors knew best. They had great confi- 
dence in their family physician, lie had doctor- 
ed them through many dangerous attacks, and 
liad always brought them through safely. As to 
the new-fangled notions about giving little or no 
medicine, she had no confidence in them. Medi- 
cine was necessary at times, and she always gave 
her children medicine at least two or three 
times a year, whether they were sick or well. 
Prevention, in her eyes, was better than cure. 
And Avhere there was actual sickness, she was in 
fixvor of vigorous treatment. One good dose of 
medicine would do more good than a hundred 
little ones ; with much more to the same efiect. 

On the next morning, my dear baby, who was 
just as sick for a few hours as Mrs. Lee's child 
was at first, was as well as ever. 

Not long after breakfast, I was sent for by 
Mrs. Lee. Her poor child was much worse. 
The servant said that she was sure it was dying. 
I changed my dress hurriedly, and went over to 
the house of my neighbor. 

Shall I describe the painful object that met my 
sight ? It was three days since I had seen the 
little sufierer ; but, oh ! how it had changed in 
that brief time. Its face was sunken, its eyes 
far back in their sockets, and its forehead mark- 
ed with lines of sufiering. The whole of its breast 
was-raw from the blister, and its mouth, lying 
open^ showed, with painful distinctness, the 
dreadful injury wrought by the mercury thrown, 
with such a liberal hand, into its delicate sys- 
tem. All the life seemed to have withdrawn 



"the poor child died." - 213 

itself from the skin ; for the vital forces, in the 
centre of its body, were acting but feebly. 

The doctor came in while I was there. He 
said but little. It was plain that he was entirely 
at fault, and that he saw no hope of a favorable 
issue. All his " active treatment" had tended to 
break down the child, rather than cure the dis- 
ease from which it at first suffered. There was 
a great deal of heat about the child's head, and he 
said something about having it shaved for a 
blister. 

" Wouldn't ice do better, doctor ?" I felt con- 
strained to suggest. He turned upon me quick- 
ly, and seemed annoyed. 

" No, madam !" he replied with dignity. 

I said no more, for I felt how vain my words 
would be. The blister, however, was not order- 
ed 5 but, in its stead, mustard plasters were di- 
rected to be placed over the feet and legs to the 
knees, and a solution of iodine, or iron, I don't 
now remember which, prescribed, to be given 
every half hour. 

I went home, some time after the doctor left, 
feeling sick at heart. " They are murdering 
that child," I could not help saying to myself. 
My own dear babe I found full of health and 
life ; and I hugged it to my breast with a feeling 
of thankfulness. 

Before the day closed, Mrs. Lee's poor child 
died. Was it a cause of wonder ? 



THE END. 



CATALOGUE 



OF 

VALUABLE BOOKS, 

PUBLISHED BY 

LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO., 

NO. 20 NORTH FOURTH STREET, PHILADELPHIA; 

CONSISTINO OF A LARGE ASSORTMENT OF 

Bibles, Prayer-Books, Commentaries, Standard Poets, 
MEDICAL, THEOLOGICAL AND MISCELLANEOUS WORKS, ETC., 

PAETICULAELY SUITABLE FOR 

PUBLIC AND PllIVATE LIBRAPJES. 

FOR SALE BY BOOKSELLERS AND COUNTRY MERCHANTS GENERALLY THROUGH- 
OUT THE UNITED STATES. 

THE BEST & MOST COMPLETE FArrllLY COMMENTARY. 
The Compreliensive Commentary on the Holy Bible; 

CONTAINING 

THE TE.^T ACCORDING TO THE AUTHORIZED VERSION, 

BCOTTS MARRINAL REFERENCES; MATTHEW HENRY'S COMMENTARY. 

CONDENSED, BUT RETAINING EVERY USEFUL THOUGHT; THE 

TRACTICAL OBSERVATIONS OF REV. THOMAS SCOTT. D. D. ; 

WITH EXTENSIVE 

EXPLANATORY, CRITICAL AND PHILOLOGICAL NOTES, 

Selected from Scott, Doddridge, Gill, Adam Clarke, Patrick, Poole, Lowth, 
Burder, Harmer, Calmet, Rosenmueller, Bloomfield, Stuart, Bush, Dwight, 
and many other writers on the Scriptures. 

The whole designed to be a digest and combination of the adrantagea of 
the best Bible Commentaries, and embracing nearly all that is valuable in 

HENRY, SCOTT, AND DODDPJDGE. 

Conveniently arranged for family and private reading, and, at the same rime, 
particularly adapted to the wants of Sabbath-School Teachers and Bible 
Classes ; with numerous useful tables, and a neatly engraved Family Recoru. 

Edited by Rev. William Jenks, D. J)., 

PASTOR OF GREEN STREET CHURCH, BOSTON. 

Embellished with five portraits, and other elegant engravings, from sfee' 
plates ; with several maps and many wood-cuts, illustrative of Scriptur« 
Manners, Customs, Antiquities, &c. In 6 >ols. super-royal 8vo. 
Including Supplen>ent, bound in cloth, sheep, calf, &c., varying in 
Fiice from $10 to 815. 
The whole forming the most valuable as well as the cheapest Commentary 
published li the world. 
^^ 1 



LIFPINCOTT, QRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
NOTICES AND RECOMMENDATIONS 

OF THE 

COMPREHENSIVE COMMENTARY. 

The Publishers select the following from the testimonials they have received 
as to the value of the work : 

We, the subscribers, having examined the Comprehensive Commentary, issuAd from the press of 
Messrs. L., G. A: Co., and !uE;hly approving its character, wohM cheerfully and confidently recom- 
mend it as containing more matter and more advantages than any other with which we are 
acquainted ; and considering the exjiense incurred, and the e.TCellent manner of its mechanical 
execution, we believe it to be one of the cheapest works ever i.ssued from the press. We hope the 
publishers will be sustained by a Lberal patronage, in their expensive and useful undertaking. W'e 
should be pleased to learn that every family iu the United States had procured a copy. 

B. B. WISN ER, D. D., Secretary of Am. Board of Com. for For. Missions. 

WM. COGSWELL, D. D., - " Education Society. 

JOHN CODMAN, D. D., Pastor of Congregational Church, Dorchester. 

Rev. HUBBARD WINSiXtW, " " Bowdom street, Dorcbcster. 

Rev. SEWALL HARDING, Pastor of T. C. Church, Waltham. 

Rev. J. H. FAIKCHILD, Pastor of Congregational Church, South Boston. 

GARDINER SPRING, D. D., Pastor of Presbyterian Church, Wew York city. 

CYRUS MASON, D. D., " • " " a « 

THOS. M'AULEY. D. D., " ..•«•• 

JOHN WOODBRIDGE, D. D., - " " «. « 

THOS. DEV/ITT. D. D., " Dutch Ref. " « • 

E. W. BALDWIN, D. D., " " " - « 

Rev. J. M. M-KREBS, " Presbyterian " « - 

Rev. ERSKINE MASON, " " « « « 

Rev. J. S. SPENCER, « « a Brooklyn. 

EZRA STILES ELY, D. D., Stated Clerk of Gen. Assem. of Presbyterian Church. 

JOHN M'DOW ELL, D. D., Permanent " " " *• 

JOHN BRECKENKIDGE, Coirejponding Secretary of Assembly's Board of Edacatioik 

SAMUEL B. WYLIE. D. D.. Pastor of the Reformed Presbyterian Church. 

N. LORD, D. D., President of Dartmouth College. 

JOSHUA BATES, D. D., President of Jliddlebury College. 

H. HUMPHREY, D. D., " Amherst College. 

E. D. GRIFFIN, D. D., " Wilhamstowa College. 

J. WHEELER, D. D., " University of Vermont, at Burlingtmi. 

J. M. MATTHEWS, D. D., " New York Cily University. 

GEORGE E. PIERCE, D. D., " Western Reserve College, Ohio. 

Rfiv. Dr. BROWN, " JelTerson College, Penn. 

LEONARD WOODS, D. D., Professor of Theology, Andover Seminai7. 

THOS. H. SKIN. \ER, D. D., " Sac. Rhet. 

Rev. RALPH EMERSON, " Eccl. Hist. " " 

Rev. JOEL P/\JvKER, Pastor of Presbyterian Church, New Orleans. 

JOEL HAWES, D. D., " Congregational Church, Hartford, Gona. 

N. S. S. BEA.MAN, D. D., " Presbyterian Church, Troy, N. Y. 

MARK TUCKER, D. D.," 

Rev. E. N. KIRK, " " " Albany, N. Y, 

Rev. E. B. EDWARDS, Editor of Quarterly Observer. 

Rev. STEPHEN MASON. Pastor First Congregational Church. Nantucket. 

Rbv. ORl.N FtnvLER. " " " " Fall River. 

GEORGE W. BE THUNE. D. D., Pastor of the First Reformed Dutch Church, Fhila*!*. 

Rev. LYMAN BKECHER, D. D., Cincinnati, Ohio. 

Rev. C. D. .MALUJRY, Pastor Baptist Church, Augusta, Ga. 

Rev. S. M. NOEL, « - « Franiifort, Ky. 

From the Professors at Pnncffton Theolovical Seminary. 
The Comprehensive Coiiinientary contains the whole of Henry's Exposition in a condensed form, 
Scott's Practical Observations and .Marginal References, and a large number of very valuable pliilo- 
lopcal and cntu^al notes, selected from various authoi-s The work appears to be ei»'«;uted witn 
judgment, fidelity, and care . and will furnish a rich treasure of scriptural knowleilge to th« 
Biblical student, and to the teachers of SabbatU-Schuols and Bible Classes. 

A. ALEXANDER, D. D. 
SAMUEL mLLER, D. D. 
CHARLES H0D6£, D. D 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

t Com|!anina' U \^t %ih\t. 

In one super-royal volume. 

DESI&NED TO ACCOMPANY 

THE FAMILY BIBLE, 

OR HENRY'S, SCOTT'S, CLARKE'S, GILL'S, OR OTHER COMMENTARIES: 

CONTAINING 

1. A new, full, and complete Concordance; 

Illustrated with monumental, traditional, and oriental engravings, founded on Butterworth's, with 
Cruden's definitions ; forming, it is believed, on many accounts, a more valuable work than either 
Butterworth, Cruden, or any other similar hook in the Ians:uage. 

The value of a Concordance is now generally understood ; and those who have used one, con- 
eider It uidispensahle in connectmn with the Bittle. 

2. A Guide to the Reading and Study of the Bible ; 

bemg Carpenter's valuable Biblical Coinpanion, lately published in London, containing a complete 
history of the Bible, and fornimg a nv.ist excellent introduction to its study. It embraces the evi- 
dences of Christianity, Jewish antiquities, manners, customs, arts, natural history, <Stc., of the Bible, 
with notes and engravings adiled. 

3. Complete Biographies of Henry, by Williams; Scott, by his 
son ; Doddridge, by Orton ; 

with sketches of the lives and characters, and notices of the works, of the writers on the Scriptore* 
who are quoted in the Commentary, living and dea<l, Anieri<3an and foreign. 

This part of the volume not only affords a large quantity of interesting and useful readmg for 
pious families, but will also b« a source of graMiication to all thf>se who are in the habit of cooisulb- 
ing the Commentary ; every one naturally feeling a desire to know some particulars of the lives and 
characters of those whose opinions he seeks. Appended to this part, will be a 

BIBLIOTHECA BIBLICA, 

or list of the best works on the Bible, of all kinds, arranged under their appropriate heads. 

4. A complete Index of the Matter contained in the Bible Text. 
6. A Symbolical Dictionary. 

A very comprehensive and valuable Dictionary of Scripture Symbols, (occuppng about fifty-six 
closely printed pages,) by Thomas Weniyss, (author of "Biblical Gleanings," ic.) Comprising 
Dauboz, Lancaster, Hutchesoii, &.c. 

6. The Work contains several other Articles, 

Indexes, Tables, &c. <5cc., and is, 

7. Dlustrated by a large Plan of Jerusalem, 

Identifying, as far as tradition, <tc., go, the original sites, drawn on the spot by F. Catherwood, of 
London, arcliitect. Also, two steel engravings of portraits of seven foreign and eiglit American 
theological writers, and numerous wood engravings. 

The whole forms a desirable and necessary fund of instruction for the use not only of clergymen 
and Sabbath-school teachers, but also for families. When the great amount of matter it must 
contain is considered, it will be deemed exceedingly cheap. 

" I have examined ' The Companion to the Bible,' and have been surprised to Und so much inform- 
ation introduced into a volu.me of so m.oderate a size. It contains a library of sacred know'.edge 
and criticism It will be useful to ministers who ov/n large libraries, and cannot fail to be so 
invaluable help to every reader of the Bible." HEXKY MORRIS, 

Pastor of Congregational Church, Vermont. 

The above work can be had in several styles of binding. Price varying 

from $1 75 to $5 00. 

8 



LIPriNCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

ILLUSTBATIOHS OF THE HOLY SCBIPTORES, 

In one super-royal volume. 

DERIVED PRINCIPALLY FROM THK MAiNNERS, CUSTOMS, ANTIQLHTIES, TRADITIONS, 
AND FORMS OF SPEECH, RITES, CLIMATE, WORKS OF ART, AND 

LITERATURE OP THE EASTERN NATIONS : 

EMBODYING ALL -THAT IS VALUABLE IN THE WORKS OF 

ROBERTS, HARIVrER, EURBSH, PAXTON, CHANDt.ER, 

And the most celebrated onentaJ travellers. EmbracinK also the subject of the Fulfilment of 

Prophecy, as exhibited by Keith and others ; with descriptions of the present stat-e 

of countries and places nienlwned in the Sacred Writing. 

ILLUSTRATED BY NOrfiEROUS LANDSCAPE ENGRAVINGS, 

FEOM SKETCHES TAKEN ON THE SPOT. 

Edited by Rev. G-eoros Bush, 

Professor of Hebrew and Orienial f-uerature in tJie New York City Univereity. 

The importance of this work must be ot>*niius, and, being aitopether lUustratwe, without reference 
to doctnnes, or other points in wh^ch Chnstians differ, it is hoped it will meet with favour from all 
who love the sacred volume, and that it will b* giifliciently interesting and attractive to recommend 
Itself, not only to professed Chnstians of aU denominations, but also to the general reader. The 
arrang^ement of the texts illustrated with the note*, m the order of the chapters and verses of the 
authorized version of the Bible, wiU render it convenient for reference to particular passages ; 
while the copious Jnde-x at the end will at one* enable the reader to turn to every subject discussed 
in the volume. 

Thv volume is not des^rned to taKe the placf 0/ Commentaries, but is a distinct department of biblical 
instruction, OTtd mav t>e used as a companion to the Comprehensive or any other Commentary, or tht 
aoly Bible. 

THE ENGRAVINGS 

tn this volume, it is believed, will form no small part of its attractions. No pains hare been spared 
to procure such as should embellish the work, and, at the same time, illustrate the text. Objec- 
tions that have been made to the pictures commonly introduced into the Bible, as being mere crea- 
tions of fancy and the imagination, often unlike nature, and frequently conveying false impressions, 
cannot be urgw! against the pictonal lUusiratioiis of this volume. Here the fine arts are made 
B'lbser/ient to utility, the lanitscai)© views being, without an exception, matttr-of-fart views ^places 
maiti07ied in Scripture, as they u;i}>car at the present day ; thus in many instances exhibiting, in the 
most forcible mamier, to the eve, the strict and literal fulfilment of the remarkable prophecies ; " the 
present rumeU and d(^sol:it« condition of tbe ciiics of Babylon, Nineveh, Selah, Aic, and the coun- 
tries of Edom and Eg5T5t, are astonishing exampiea, and •<> completely exemplify, in the most 
minute {lamculars, every thing wbioh was foretold of them m the height of their prosperity, that 
no tetter descni)Lion oan now Ns gnen of tiiem than a simple quotation from a chapter and verse 
of the Bible written nearly two or tnree thouaaud years ago." Th.« publishers are enabled to select 
from several collections lately publ'j?!ied m liondon, line propnetor of one of which says that "seve- 
ral d-.stiiig-.ushcd travpUers h.ive arTorded hirn t'le ws« of nearly litres Hundred Original Sketches" 
of Scripture places, made u;ik;u th«: spot " The land of Palestine, it is well known, abounds is 
wvr.os of the most pict'u-esque beauty Syns comprebendfi the Kiowy heights of I/cbanon, and the 
majestic rums of Tadiuor and BaaJl>ec " 
Thti above v/ork ran l>e had in varioiis .xtyles of bindiajr 

Price from $1 50 to f5 00. 

THE ILLUSTRATED COJiCORDANCE, 

In one volume, royal 8vo. 

A new, fall, and complete Coiicordajics ; illustrated with monumental, traditional, and oriental 
engravings, founded on Duttenvorth's, vsnth Crudon's definitions; forming, it is believed, on many 
accounts, a more valuable work than either Butt^rworth, Cruden, or Bmy other similar IwoW in th* 
language. 

The value of a Concordance is now generally understood ; and those who have used one, oon- 
Bider it indis^ien.sahle in connection with the Bible. Some of the many advantages the Illustrated 
Conco.-daace has over all the others, are, that it contains near two hundred appropriate engravings : 
it ia printed on fine white paper, with l>eautiful large type. 

Price One Dollar. 
4 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

LIPPINCOTT'S EDITION OF 

BAGSTEH'S COMPREHENSIVE BIBLE, 

In order to develope the peculiar nature of the Comprehensive £ible, it will only be necessary 
to embrace its more prominent features. 

1st. The SACRED TEXT is that of the Authorized Version, and is printed from the edition cor- 
rected and improved by Dr. Blaney, which, from its accuracy, is considered the standard edition. 

2/1. The VARIOUS READINGS are faithfully pnnted from the edition of Dr. Blaney, inclusive 
of the translation of the proper names, without tlie addition or diminution of one. 

3d. In the CHRONOLOGY, great care has been taken to fix the date of the particular transao- 
tioiis, which has seldom been done with any degree of exactness in any former edition of the Bible. 

4th. The NOTES are exclusively philological and explanatory, and are not tinctured with senti- 
ments of any sect or party. They are selected from the most eminent Biblical critics and com- 
mentators. 

It is hoped that this edition of the Holy Bible will be found to contain the essence of Biblical 
research and criticism, that lies di.sjjersed throuj^h an immense number of volumes. 

Such is the nature and design of this edition of the Sacred Volume, which, from the variona 
objects it embraces, the freedom of its pages from all sectarian peculiarities, and the beauty, plain- 
ness, and correctness of the typography, that it cannot fail of proving acceptable and useful to 
Christians of every denomination. 

In addition to the usual references to parallel passages, wliich are quite full and numerous, the 
student has all tl^inarginal reading:s, together with a rich selection of Philological, Critical, Histo- 
rical, Geographical, and other valuable notes and remarks, which explain and illustrate the sacred 
text. Besides the general introduction, containing valuable essays on the genuineness, authenticity, 
and inspiration of the Holy Scriptures, and other topics of interest, there are introductory and con- 
cluding remarks to each book — a table of the contents of the Bible, by which the different portion* 
are so arranged as to read in an historical order. 

Arranged at the top of each page is the period in which the prominent events of sacred history 
took place. The calculations are made for the year of the world before and after Christ, Julian 
Period, the year of the Olympiad, the year of the building of Rome, and other notations of time. 
At the close is inserted a Chronological Index of the Bible, according to the computation of Arch- 
bishop Ussher. Also, a full and valuable index of the subjects contained in the Old and New Testa- 
ments, with a careful analysis and arrangement of texts under their appropnate subjects. 

Mr. Greenfield, the editor of this work, and for some time previous to his death the superintend- 
ent of the editorial department of the British and Foreign Bible Society, was a most extraordinary 
man. In editing the Comprehensive Bible, his varied and extensive learning was called into suc- 
cessful exercise, and appears in happy combination with sincer" piety and a sound judgment. The 
Editor of the Christian Observer, alluding to this work, in an obituary notice of its author, speaka 
of it as a work of " prodigious labour and research, at once exhibiting his varied talents and pro- 
found erudition. " 



LIPPINCOTT'S EDITION OF 

THE OXFORD QUARTO BIBLE. 

The Publishers have spared neither care nor expense in their edition of the Bible; it is printed 
en the finest white vellum paper, with large and beautiful type, and bound in the most substantial 
and splendid manner, in the followng styles : Velvet, with richly gilt ornaments ; Turkey super 
extra, with gilt clasps ; and in numerous others, to suit the taste of the most fastidious. 

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

•In our opinion, the Christian public generally wnll feel under great obligations to the publishers 
of this work for the beautiful taste, arningemeiit, and delicate neatness with which they have got 
it out. The intrinsic nwrit of the Bible reoimimends itself; it needs no tinsel onianient to adorn 
its sacred paees. In this edition every superfinoiis ornament has been avoided, and we have pre- 
sented us a perfectly chaste siieciinen of the Bible, without note oi comment. It appears to be just 
what is needed in every family — 'the iinsophisticaled word of God.' 

"The size is quarto, printed witli lieaiitifui type, on v/hite, sized veilum paper, of the finest texture 
and most bea'.itifnl surface. The publishers seem to have been solicitous to make a perfectly 
unique book, and they have accomplished the olije(;t very succe.s.sfully. We trust that a liberal 
community will afford them ample remuneration for all the expense and outlay they have necessa- 
rily incurred in its publication. It is a standard Bible. 

"The publishers are Messrs. Lippincolt, Graiubo <t Co., No. 14 North Fourth street, Philadel- 
phia." — Baptist Record. 

"A Beautiful quarto edition of the Bible, bv L., G. <fe Co. Nothing can exceed Ihe type in clear 
ness and beauty ; the paper is of the finest texture, and the whole execution iiUxceedingly neat 
No illustrations or ornamental type are used. Those who prefer a Bible executed in perfect sim- 
phcity, yet elegance of style, without adornment, will probably never find one more to their tast* ' 
•^-iW. Maoazint. 



A* 5 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.*S PUBLICATIONS, 
LIPPINCOTT'S EDITIONS OF 

THE HOLY BIBLE. 

SIX DIFFERENT SIZES. 

Printed in the best manner, with beautiful type, on the finest sized paper, and bound in th« moat 
splendid and substantial styles. Warranted to be correct, and equal to the best English editions, at 
much less price. To be had with or without plates ; the publishers having supplied themselves with 
mei fifty steel engn'avings, by the first artists. 

Baxter's Comprehensive Bible, 

Royal quarto, containing the various readings and marginal notes ; disquisitions on the genuineness, 
authenticity, and inspiration of the Holy Scriptures; introductory and concluding remarks to «acb 
book ; philological and explanatory notes ; table ol contents, arranged in liistorical order ; a chro- 
nological index, and various other matter ; forming a suitable book for the study of clergymen. 
Sabbath -school teachers, and students. 

In neat plain binding, from $4 00 to $5 00. — In Turkey morocco, extra, gilt edges, from $8 00 to 
• 12 00. — In do., with splendid plates. $10 00 to $15 00. —In do., bevelled side, gilt clasps and illa- 
minatiomi, 1 15 00 to $2.') 00. 

The Oxford Quarto Bible, 

Without note or comment, universally admitted to be the most beautiful ■H>le extant. 
In neat plain binding, from $4 00 to 15 00. — In Turkey morocco, extra, gilt edges, $8 00 to 112 00. 
— In do., with steel engravings, $10 00 to $15 00. — In do., clasps, <kc., with plates and illumina- 
tions, $15 00 to $25 00. — In rich velvet, with gilt ornaments, $25 00 to $50 00. 

Crown Octavo Bible, 

Printed with large clear type, making a most convenient hand Bible for family use. 
In neat plain binding, from 75 cents to $1 50. — In English Turkey morocco, gilt edges, II 00 to 
12 00. — In do., imitation, &c., $1 50 to $3 00. — In do., clasps, &.c., $2 50 to $6 00.— In rich velvet, 
with gilt ornaments, $5 00 to $10 00. 

The Sunday- School Teacher's Polyglot Bible, with Maps, &c., 

In neat plain binding, from GO cents to $1 00. — In imitation gilt edge, $1 O0to$l 50. —In Turkey, 
super extra, $1 76 to $2 25. — In do. do., with clasps, $2 50 to $3 75. — In velvet, rich gilt orna- 
ments, $3 50 to $8 00. 

The Oxford 18mo., or Pew Bible, 

In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to $1 00. — In imitation gilt edge, $1 00 to $1 50. — InTurkey 
super extra, $1 75 to $2 25. — In do. do., with clasps, $2 50 to $3 75. — In velvet, rich gilt orn* 
ments, $3 50 to $8 00. 

Agate 32mo. Bible, 

Printed with larger type than any other small or pocket edition extant. 
In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to 81 00. — In tucks, or pocket-book style, 75 cents to $1 00.- 
In roan, imitation gilt edge, $1 00 to $1 50. —In Turkey, super extra, $1 00 to $2 00. — In do. d» 
gilt clasps, $2 50 to $3 50. — In velvet, with rich gilt ornaments. $3 00 to $7 00. 

32mo. Diamond Pocket Bible; 

\ The neatest, smallest, and cheapest edition of the Bible published 

In neat plain binding, from 30 to 50 cents. — In tuck.s, or pocket-book style, 60 cents to $1 00.- 
In roan, imitation gilt edge, 75 cents to $1 25. — In Turkey, super extra, $1 00 to $1 50. — In do. do 
gilt clasps, $1 50 to $2 00. — In velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, $2 50 to $6 00. 

CONSTANTLY ON HAND, 

A lai^e assortment of BIBLES, bound in the most splendid and costly styles, with gold and silvei 
ornaments, suitable for presentation ; ranging in price from $10 00 to $100 00. 
A liberal discount made to Booksellers and Agents by the Publishers. 

ENCYCLOP/EDIA OF RELIGIOUS KNOWLEDGE; 

OR, DICTIONARY OF THE BIBLE, THEOLOGY, RELIGIOUS BIOGRAPHY, ALL RELIGIONS, 

ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY, AND MISSIONS. 

Designed as a Anplete Book of Reference on all Religious Subjects, and Companion td the Bible ; 
wrming a cheap and compact Library of Religious Knowledge. Edited by Rev. J. Newtoa Brown. 
Illustrated by wood-cuts, maps, an-l ei>8:raving8 on copper and steeL In one volume, royal 8vo. 
Price. $4 00. 

6 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

Lippincott's Standard Editions of 

THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER. 

IN SIX DIFFERENT SIZES. 

ILLUSTRATED Wll'ft A NTIMBER OF STEEL PLATES AND ILLUMfNATIOXS. 
JOMPREHENDINS THE MOST VARIED AND SPLENDID ASSORTMENT IN THK 

UNITED STATES. 



' THE ILLUMINATED OCTAVO PRAYER-BOOK, 

Printed in seventeen different colours of ink, and illustrated with a number of Steel Plates and 
riluminations ; making one of the most splendid books published. To be had in any variety of tha 
most superb binding, ranging in prices. 

In Turkey, super extra, from $5 00 to 18 CO. — In do. do., with clasps, $6 00 to SIO 00.— In do, 
do., bevelled and panelled edges, »8 00 to 115 00. — In velvet, richly ornamented, $12 00 to 120 00. 

8vo. 

In neat plain binding, from $1 50 to $2 00. — In imitation gilt edge, $2 00 to $3 00. —In Turkey, 
•uper extra, 12 50 to $4 50. — In do. do., with clasps, $3 00 to «5 00. — In velvet, richly eJlt ona>- 
ments, $5 00 to^l2 00. 

16 mo. 

Printed throughout with large and elegant type. 
In neat plain binding, from 75 cents to II 50. — In Turkey morocco, extra, with plates, 11 75 to 
«3 00. —In do. do., with plates, clasps, 6iC., »2 50 to $5 00. — In velvet, with richly gilt ornament!, 
«4 00 to 19 00. 

18mo. 

In neat plain binding, fi-om 25 to 75 cents. —In Turkey morocco, with plates, 11 25 to 12 00.— la 
» velvet, with richly gilt ornaments, $3 00 to $8 00. 

32mo. 

A beautiful Pocket Edition, with large type. 
In neat plain binding, from 50 cents to II 00. — In roan, imitation gilt edge, 75 cents to 11 50. — In 
Turkey, super extra, 1 1 25 to 12 00. — In do. do., gilt clasps, 12 00 to 13 00. — In velvet, with richly 
gilt ornaments, $3 00 to 17 00. 

32nio., Pearl type. 

In plain binding, from 25 to 37 1-2 cents.— Roan, 37 1-2 to 50 cents. — Imitation Turkey, 50 centi 
toll 00. —Turkey, super extra, with gilt edge, II 00 to II 50. — Pocket-book style, 60 to 75 cents. 

PROPER LESSONS. 
18mo. 

A BEAUTIFUL EDITION, WITH LARGE TYPE. 
In neat plain binding, fron^ .50 cents to II 00. — In roan, imitation gilt edge, 75 cents to $1 90. — la 
Turkey, super extra, II 50 to 12 00. — In do. do., gilt clasps, $2 50 to 13 00. — In velvet, with richly 
gilt ornaments, 13 00 to 17 00. 

THE BIBLE AND PRAYER-BOOK, 

In one neat and portable volume. 

32mo., in neat plain binding, from 75 cents to II 00. — In imitation Turkey, tl 00 to II 50. —In 
Turkey, super extra, II 50 to $2 50. 

18ino, in large type, plain, II 75 to $2 50. — In imitation, II 00 to 11 75, — In Turkey, ropei 
extra, II 75 to 13 00. Also, with clasps, velvet, Slc. <Sm5. 

The Errors of Modern Infidelity Illustrated and Refuted. 

BY S. IVI. SCHIVIUGKER, A. lyi. 

In one volume, 12mo. ; cloth. Just published. 

We cannot but regard this work, in whatever lielit we view it in reference to its design, as on« 
of the mo.st masterly productions of the age, and fitted to uproot one of the most fondly cherished 
and dangerous of all ancient or modern errors. God must bless such a work, am.ed with his own 
truth, and doing fierce and stnccessful battle against blar.k infiJelity, which v.onld bring His M.aji-v.y 
and Word down to the tribunal of human reason, for comktr.nation nrjil nnriihilatjon.—^'i. Sprctalor 

i 



UPPINCOTT, GKAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

t Clugq of Slmerirn: 

CONSISTING OF 

ANECDOTES ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE CHARACTER OF MINISTERS OF RELI- 
GION IN THE UNITED STATES. 

BY JOSEPH BELCHER, D.D., 
Editor of "The Complete Works of Andrew Fuller," "Robert Hall," &c. 

" This veiy interesting and instructive co'.lection of pleasing and solemn remembrances of many 
pious men, illustrates the character of the day in v.'hich they lived, and defines the men more 
clearly than very elaborate essays." — Ballimore Americaji. 

"We regard the collection as highly interesting, and judiciously made." — Presbyterian. 

JOSEPHUS'3 (FLAVIUS) WORKS, 

FAMILY EDITION. 
BY THE LATE TW'IL.LIAIVI -WTHISTON, A. IVI. 

FROM THE LAST LONDON ^EDITION, COMPLETE. 
One olume, beautifully illustrated with Steel Plates, and the only readable edition 

published in this country. 

As a matter of course, every family in our coiuitry has a copy of the Holy Bible ; and as the pre- 
sumption is that the greater portion often consult its pages, we take the Uberty of saying to all those 
that do, that the perusal of the writings of Josephus will be found very interesting and instructive. 

AU those who wish to possess a beautiful and correct copy of this valuable work, would do well 
to purchase this edition. It is for sale at all the principal bookstores in the United States, aad by 
ooiuitry merchants generally in the Southern and Western States. 

Also, the above work in two volumes. 



BURDER'S VILLAGE SERMONS; 

Or, 101 Plain and Short Discourses on the Principal Doctrines of the Gospel. 

INTENDED FOR THE USE OF FAMILIES, SUNDAY-SCHOOLS, OR COMPANIES ASS3M- 
BLED FOR RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION IN COUNTRY VILLAGES. 

BY GEORGE BURDER. 

To which is added to each Sermon, a Short Prayer, with some General Prayers for Families, 

Schools, &c., at the end of the work. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVO. 

These sermons, which are characterized by a beautiful simplicity, the entire absence of oontro- 
wersy, and a true evangelical spirit, have gone through many and large editions, and been translated 
into several of the continental languages. " They have also been the honoured means not only of 
converting many individuals, but also of introducing the Gospel into districts, and even mto parish 
ehurches, where before it was comparatively unknown." 

" This work fully deserves the immortality it has attained." 

This is a fine library edition of this invaluable work ; and when we say that it should be found ia 
the possession of every family, we only reiterate tlie sentiments and sincere wishes of all who take 
a deep interest in the eternal welfare of mankind. 

FAMILY PRAYEUS AND HYMNS, 

ADAPTED TO FAMILY WORSHIP, 

TABLES FOR THE REGULAR 'rEADING OF THE SCRIPTURES. 

By Rev. S. C. Winchester, A. M., 

L*t« Pastor of the Sixth Presbyterian Church, Philadelphia; and the Presbyterian Ckotelt SI 

Natchez,, Miss. 

One volume, 12mo. 



LIPPLNCOOT, GEAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

SPLENDID LIBRARY EDITIONS. 



ILLUSTRATED STANDARD POETS. 

BI.EGANTLY PRINTED, ON FINE PAPER. AND UNIFORM IN SIZE AND 

ST'/LE. 



IRie following Editions of Standard British Poets are illustrated with numerous Sted 
Engravings, and may be had in all varieties of binding. 

BYRON'S WORKS. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVO/ 

INCLUDING ALL HIS SUPPRESSED AND ATTRIBUTED POEJIS ; WITH SIX BEAUTIFUL 

ENGRAVINGS. 

This edition has been carefully compared with the recpnt London edition of Mr. Murray, and 
made complete by the addition of more than fifty pages of poems heretofore unpublished in Eng- 
land. Among these there are a number that have never appeared in any American edition; and 
the publishers believe they are warranted in sajang that this is the most complete edition of Lord 
Bvron's Poetical Works ever published in the United States. 



I ^OEtiml ^orks nf Mrs. Btraanii. 

Complete in one volume, octavo ; with seven beautiful Engravings. 

This is a new and complete edition, with a splendid engraved lilceness of Mrs. Hemans, on steei« 
and contains ail the Poems in the last London and American editions. With a Critical Prefac« by 
Mr. Thatcher, of Boston. 

"As no work in the English language can be commended with more confidence, it will argne bad 
taste m a female in this country to be without a complete edition of the writings of one who was 
an honour to her sex and to humanity, and whose productions, from first to last, contain no syllable 
calculated to call a blush to the cheek of modesty and virtue. There is, moreover, in Mrs. Hemans'a 
poetry, a moral purity and a religious feeling which commend it, in an especial manner, to the dis- 
criminating reader. No parent or guardian will be under the necessity^of imposing restnctions 
with regard to the free perusal of every production emanating from this gifted woman. There 
breathes throughout the whole a most eminent exemption from impropriety of thought or diction; 
and there is at times a pensivene.ss of tone, a winning sadness in her more serious compositions, 
which tells of a soul which has been lifted from the contemplation of terrestrial things, to divine 
communings with beings of a purer world." 



MILTON, YOUNG, GRAY, BEATTIE, AND COLLINS'S 
POETICAL WORKS. 

COMPLETE IN CNR VOLUME, OCTAVO. 
WITH SIS BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 



Cmnpr nui €!ininsnii's ^imi null ^ktm\ tSnrks* 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVO. 

mcluding two hundred and fifty Letters, and sundry Poems of Cowper, never before published ia 

this country ; and of Tiiomson a new and interesting Memoir, and upwards of twenty 

new Poems, for the first time printed from his owii Manuscripts, taken from 

a late Edition of the Aldme Poets, now publishing in London. 

V/ITII SEVEN BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 

The distins:uishe(i Professor Silliman. speaking of this edition, obsen'es : " I am as much gratifiea 
by i!ic f'lfigancH ntid fine taste of your edition, as by the noble tril)ute of genius uiul moral excel- 
I'.>nc8 which these dti!;t;htful antlmrs have Ictl for all future generations ; and Cow{)cr, espa^'iiaily, 
is not XdA'i Cf)nnp!ouoiis as a true Christian, moralist and t<'ai'.her, than a-s a poet of great pi»w«r aiut 
ex<4Ui.>;ite taste ** 

9 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF ROGERS, CA!V!PBELL, IVlONTGOiyiERY, 
LAMB, AND KIRKE WHITE. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUIilE, OCTAVO. 
WITH SIX BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 

The beauty, correctness, and convenience of this favourite edition of these standard authors are 
so well known, that it is scarcely necessary to acid a word ni its favour. It is only necessary lo say, 
that the publishers have now issued an illustrated edition, which greatly enhances its former value. 
The engravings are excellent and well selected. It is the best library edition extiuit. 



CMBBE, HEBER, AND POLLOFS POETICAL WORKS. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, OCT.'VVO. 
V7ITH SIX BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 

A writer in the Boston Traveller holds the following language with reference to these valuable 
editions : — 

" Mr. Editor : — I wish, without any idea of puffing, to say a word or two upon the ' Library of 
English Poets' that is now published at Philadelphia, by Lippincolt, Granibii <k Co. It is certainly, 
taking into consideration the elegant manner in which it is printed, and the reasonable pnce at 
which it is afforded to purchasers, the best edition of the modern Britixli Poets that has ever been 
published in this country. Each volume is an octavo of about 50* pages, double columns, steiieo- 
typed. and accompanied with fine engravings and biographical sketciies ; and most of thenn a.re 
reprinted from Galignani's French edition. As to its value, we need only mention that it contains 
the entire works of Montgomery, Gray. Beattie, Collins, Byron, Cowper, Thomson, Milton, Young, 
Rogers, Campbell, Lamb, Hemans. Heber, Kirke Wlnte, Crabbe, the Miscellaneous Works of Gold- 
smith, and other masters of the lyre. The publishers are doing a great service by their publication, 
and their volumes are almost in as great demand as the fashionable novels of the day ; and th«iy 
deserve to be so : for they are certainly printed in a style superior to that in which we have before 
had the works of the English Poets." 

No library can be considered complete without a copy of the above beautiful and cheap editions 
of the English Poets ; and persons ordering all or any of them, will please say Lippincott, Grambo 
A Co.'s illustrated editions. 



A COMPLETE 

lirtionari] of ^^ortirnl d^uDiotioiis: 

CJOMPRISING THE MOST EXCELLENT AND APPROPRIATE PASSAGES IN 
THE OLD BRITISJl J'OETS; WITH CHOICE AND COPIOUS SELEC- 
TIONS FROM THE BEST MODERN BRITISH AND 
AMERICAN POETS. 

EDITED BY SARAH JOSEPHA HALE. 

As nightingales do upon elow-worms feed, 
So poets live upon the living light 
Of Nature and of Beauty. 

Bailey's Fest'ui. 

Bsjiutifully illustrated with Engravings. In one super-royal octavo volume, in various 

bindings. 

The publishers extract, from the many highly complimentary notices of the above valuable and 
beautiful work, the following : 

" We have at last a volume of Poetical Quotations worthy of the name. It contains nearly six 
hundred octavo paees, carefully and tastefiiiiy selected from all the home and foreign authors ot 
celebrity. It is invaluable to a writer, while to tlie ordinary reader it presents every subject at a 
(fiance." — Godey's L/ulu's Bitnh. 

•'The plan or idea of Mrs. Hrjp's work is felicitous. It is one for which her fine taste, her orderly 
Uabitsof^niind, and her lung occn[jati()ii witti literaiure, has given her peculiar facilities; and tho- 
roughly has she accomplished her task in the work l)efore ns." — Sar lam's Maijazine. 

"It is a choice collection of poetical extracts from every English and American author WOrtk 
perusing, from the days of Chaucer to the present time." -Washington Union. 

" There is nothm« negative about ihLs work ; it is positively good." — Evcniftg Bulletin. 

10 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

THE DIAMOND EDITION OF BYRON. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF LORD BYRON,. 

WITH A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 

COMPLETE IN OiHH NEAT DUODECIMO VOLUME, WITH STEEL PLATES. 

The type of this edition is so perfect, and it is printed with so much care, on fine white paper, 
that it can be read with as much ease as most of the larger editions. This work is to be had La 
plain and superb binding, making a beautiful rolume for a gift. 

" The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, complete ni one volume ; published by L., G. & Co., Phila- 
delphia. We hazard nothing in saying that, take it altogether, this is the most elegant work ever 
issued from the American press. 

'• ' In a siuK-le volume, nut iarser than an ordinary duodecimo, the publishers have embraced the 
whole of Lord Byron's Poems, usually printed in ten or twelve volumes; and, what is more remark- 
able, have done it with a type so clear and distinct, that, notwithstanding its necessarily small size, 
it may be read with the utmost facility, even by failing eyes. The book is stereotyped ; and never 
have we seen a finer specimen of that art. Everything about it is perfect — the paper, the print- 
ing, the binding, all correspond with each other ; and it is embellished with two fine engravings, 
well worthy the wimpanionship in which they are placed. 

" "This will make a beautiful Chnstmas present.' 

" We extract the above from Godey's Lady's Book. The notice itself, we are given to understand, 
is written by Mrs. Hale. 

" We have to add our commendation in favour of this beautiful volume, a copy of which has 
been sent us by the publishers. The admirers of the noble bard will feel obliged to the enterprise 
wiiicli has prompted the publishers to dare a competition with the numerous editions of his works 
already m circulation; and we shall be surpnsed if this convenient travelling edition does not in a 
great degree supersede the use of the large octavo works, which have Utile advantage in size ana 
openness of type, and are much inferior m the qualities of portability and lightness." — Intelligencer. 



THE DIAMOND EDITION OF MOORE. 

(corresponding with BYRON.) 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF THOMAS MOORE, 

COLLECTED BY HIMSELF. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 

Tnis work is published uniform with Byron, from the last London edition, and is the most fXN»- 
plete printed in the country. 

THE DIAMOND EDITION OF SHAKSPEARE, 

(complete in one VOLUME,) 

22TCIitJDI3J?G- Ik SKSTCSC OF HIS lilFS. 

UNIFORM WITH BYRON AND MOORE. 

THE ABOVC WORKS CAN BK HAD IN SEVERAL VARIETIES OP BINDINS. 

GOLDSMITH'S ANIMATED NATURE. 

IN TWO VOLUMES, OCTAVO. 
BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED WITH 385 PLATES. 

CONTAFNING A HISTORY OF THE EARTH, ANIMALS, BIRDS, AND FISHES; FORMINQ 
THE MOST COMPLETE NATURAL HISTORY EVER PUBLISHED. 

This is a work that should be in the library of every family, having been written by one of ttM 
most talented authors in the English language. 

" Goldsmith can never he made obsolete while delicate genius, exquisite feeling, fine inTeatioB^ 
*he most harmonious metre, and the happiest diction, are at all valued." 

BIGLAND'S NATURAL HISTORY 

O* Ajjimalfl, Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, and Insects. Illustrated with numerous and beautiful Eagnr 

ings. By JOHN BIGLAND, author of a " View of the World," " letters on 

Universal History," <fec. Complete in 1 vol.. 12au). 

11 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

^ THE POWER AND PROGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
THE UNITED STATES; lis Power and Progress. 

BY GIJII.LAU2VEE TELL POUSSIN, 

LATE MINISTER OF THE REPUBLIC OF FRANCE TO THE UNITED STATES. 

FIRST AMERICAN, FROM THE THIRD PARIS EDITION. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY EDMOND L. DU BARRY, M. D., 

SURGEON U. S. NAVY. 

In one large octavo volume. 



SCHOOLCRAFT'S GREAT NATIONAL WORK ON THE INDIAN TRIBES OF 

THE UNITED STATES. 

WITH BEAUTIFUL AND ACCURATE COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS. 



HISTGRICAL AMD STATiSTIGAL iHFOEf^ATION 

RESPECTING THE 

HISTORY, CONDITION AND PROSPECTS 

OF TIIK 

fuMan €x\\\tB nil^t ^nlUh $\aUB. 

COLLECTED AND PREPARED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE BUREAU OF Drt)lAN 
AFFAIRS, PER ACT OF MARCH 3, 1847, 

BIT HSXfH'? S. SGlSOOXiGHikFT, ImIs.J}. 

f ILLUSTRATED BY S. EASTMAN, Capt. U. S. A. 
PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY OF CONGRESS. 

THE AMERICAN GARDENER'S CALENDAR, 

ADAPTED TO THE CLIMATE AND SEASONS OF THE UNITED STATES. 

Containing a complete account of all the work necessnrjr to be done m the Kitchen Garden, Fruit 
Garden, Orchard, Vineyard, Nursery, Pieasure-Gruuiul, Flower Garden, Green-house, Hot-house, 
uid Forcing Frames, for every month in the year; with ample Practical Directions for performing 
the same. 

Also, general as well as minute instructions for laying out or erecting each and every of the abova 
departments, according to modern taste and the most approved phms; the Ornamental Planting of 
Reasure Grounds, in the ancient and njuderu stylo; the cuitivai ion of Thorn Quicks, and other 
plants suitable for Live Hedges, with the best methods of making thero, <tc. To which are annexe 
catalogues of Kitchen Garden Plants and Herbs; Aromatic, Pot, and Sweet Herb* ; Medicintl 
Plants, and the most important Grapes, ^ic, used in rural economy ; with the soil best adapted to 
Qxeir cultivation. Together with a copious Index to the body of the work. 

BY BERNARD M'MAHON. 

Tenth Edition, greatly iniprovcd. In one volume, octavo. 

THE USEFUL AND THE BEAUTIFUL; 

OR. DOMESTIC AND MORAL DUTIES NECESSARY TO SOCIAL HAPPINESS, 

BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED. 

16mo. square cloth. Price 50 and 75 cents. 

12 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

THE FARiVIER'S AND PLANTER'S ENCYCLOP/EDIA. 



€lff /urmH'a ml ^ilmWB f nqrlnjirEMii nf Euriil Mm* 

BY CUTHBERT W. JOHNSON. 
ADAPTED TO THE UNITED STATES BY GOUVERNEUR EMERSON. 

niugtrated by seventeen beautiful Engravings of Cattle, Horses, Sheop, the varieties of Wheat 
Barley, Oats, Grasses, the Weeds of Agriculture, <tc. ; besides numerous Engrav- 
ings on wood of the most important implements of Agriculture, 6ic. 

This standard work contains the' latest and best information upon all subjects connected ■with 
farming, and appertaining to the country ; treating of the great crops of grain, hay, cotton, hemp, 
tobacco, rice, sugar, <kc. <kc. ; of horses and mules ; of cattle, with minute particulars relating to 
cheese and butter-making ; of fowls, including a description of capon-making, with drawings of iha 
instruments employed ; of bees, and the Russian and other systems of managing bees and con- 
structing hives. Long articles on the uses and preparation of bones, lime, guano, and all sorts of 
animal, mineral, and vegetable substances employed as manures. Descriptions of the most approved 
ploughs, harrows, threshers, and every other agricultural machine and implement; of fruit and 
vhade trees, forest trees, and shrubs ; of weeds, and all kinds of flies, and destructive worms and 
'nsects, and the best means of getting rid of them ; together with a thousand other matters relating 
o rural life, about wiiich information us so constantly desired by all residents of the country. 
IN ONE LARGE OCTAVO VOLUME. 

MASON'S FARRIER-FARMERS' EDITION. 

Price, 62 cents. 



THE PRACTICAL FARRIER, FOR FARMERS: 

COMPRISINO A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE NOBLE AND DSEFCL ANIMAL, 

THE HORSE; 

WITH MODES OF MANAGEMENT IN ALL CASES, AND TREATr^.NT IN DISEASE, 
TO WHICH IS ADDED, 

A PRIZE ESSAY ON MULES • AND AN APPENDIX, 

C<Mitaining Recipes for Diseases of Horses, Oxen, Cows, Calves, Sheep, Dogs, Swine, <kc. &c 

BIT RICHiLXlD MikSOZT, IS. 7>., 

Formerly of Surry County, Virginia. 
In one volume, 12mo.; bound in cloth gilt. 

MASON'S FARRIER AND STUD-BOOK-NEW EDITION. 



THE GENTLEMAN'S NEW POCKET FARRIER: 

COMPRISING A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE NOBLE AND DSEFDL ANIMAL, 

THEHOaSE; 

WITH MODES OF MANAGEMENT IN ALL CASES, AND TREATMENT IN DISEASE. 

Formerly of Surry County, Virginia. 

fo which is added, A PRIZE ESSAY ON MULES; and AN APPENDLX, contahiing Recipes toe 

Diseases of Horses, Oxen, Cows, Calves, Sheep, Dogs, Swine, <kc. <fec. ; with Annala 

of the Turf. American Stud-Book, Rules for Training, Racing, <tc _ 

WITH A SUPPLEMENT, 

Comprising an Essay on nomcstic .^n;mals, especially the Horse ; with Remarks on Treatment ane 

Breeding ; toge.ther with Trotting and Racing Tables, sho\^ mg the best time on record at on» 

two, three and four mile hcat.s ; Pecii,'jrees of Winning Horses, since 1839, and of the mos? 

celebrated Stallions and Mares ; with usefnl Calving and Lambing Tables. By 

J. S. SKINNER, Editor now of the Farmer's Library, New York, &c. *c. 

B 13 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S POBLICATIONS. 

HINDS'S FARRIERY AND STUD-BOOK~NEW EDITION. 
FARMERY, 

TAUGHT ON A NEW AND EASY PLAN: 

BEING 

a €xuim m Wjt Wmmn nniJ Slrriknts nf i^t Irnst ; 

nth Instructions to the Shoeing Smith. Farrier, and Groom; preceded by a Popular Description (A 
the Aiumal Functions in Health, and how these are to be restored when disordered. 

BY JOHN HINDS, VETERINARY SURGEON. 

With considerable Additions and Improvements, particularly adapted to this country, 

BY THOMAS M. SMITH, 

Veterinary Surgeon, and Member of the London Veterinary Medical Society. 

WITH A SUPPLEMENT, BY J. S. SKINNER. 

The publishers have received numerous flatterinft notices of the great practical value of these 
wrorks. The distinguished editor of the Amencan Farmer, speaking of them, observes: — "We 
cannot too highly recommend these books, and therefore tidvise every owner of a horse to obtain 
them." 

"There are receipts in those books that show how Founder may be cured, and the traveller pur- 
sue his journey the next day, by Kiving a Uiblespoimful of alum. This was got from Dr. P. Thornton, 
of Montpelier, Rappahannock county, Virginia, as founded on his ovnx observation in several cases. 

" The constant demand for Mason's and Hinds's Farrier has i-nduced the publishers, Messrs. Lip- 
pincott, Grambo <t Co., to put forth new editions, with a ' Supi)lement' of 100 pages, by J. S. Skinner, 
Esq. We should have sought to render an acceptable service to our agricultural readers, by giving 
a chapter from the Supplement, 'On the Kelations between Man and the Domestic Animals, espe- 
cially the Horse, and the Obligations they imj'ose ;' or the one on 'The Form of Ammals;' but that 
either one of them would overrun the space here allotted to such subjects." 

" Lists of Medicines, and other articles which ought to be at hand about every traming and livery 
stable, and every Farmer's and Breeder's establishment, will be found in these valuable works." 



TO CARPENTERS AND MECHANICS. 

Just Published. 



A NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION OF 

THE CARPENTER'S N^EW GUIDE, 

BEING A COMPLETE BOOK OF LINES FOR 

Treating fully on Practical Geometry, Saffii's Brick and Plaster Groins, Niches of every descnpti^Ht, 

Sky-lights, Lines for Roofs and Domes ; with a great variety of Designs for RoofJs, 

Trussed Girders, Floors, Domes, Briiiges. &:n.. Angle Bars for Shop 

Fronts, 4tc., and Fakmg MouJdmgs. 



) 



ALSO 

Additional Plans for various Stair-Cases, with the Lines for producing the Face and Falling Moalda 
never before published, and greatly superior to those given in a former edition of this work. 

BY WILLIAM JOHNSON, ARCHITECT. 

OF PHILADELPHIA. 

TTifc wnole founded on true Geometrical Principles; the Theory and Practice well explained and 
fully exemplified, on eighty-three copper plates, including some Observations and Calculations on 
vbe Strength of Timber 

8Y PETER NICHOLSON, 

Atztnor iM "The Carpenter and Joi>ier's Assistant," "The Student's instructs to O10 9tt% 

Orders," <fea 

Thirteenth Edition. One volume, 4to., well bound. 
- 14 



LrPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

A DICTIONARY OF SELECT AND POPULAR QUOTATIONS, 

WHICH ARE IN DAILY USE. 

TAKEN FROM THE LATIN, FRENCH, GREEK, SPANTSH AND ITALIAN LANGUAGES. 

Together with a copious Collection of Law Maxims and Law Terms, translated int« 

English, with Illustrations, Historical and Idiomatic 

NEW AMERICAN EDITION, CORRECTED, WITH ADDITIONS. 

One volume, 12mo. 

Thw volume comprises a copious collection of legal and other terms which are m common us«, 
With English translations and historical illnstrations ; and we should judge its author had 8urel> 
een to a great " Feast of Languages," and stole all the scraps. A work of this character should 
have an extensive sale, as it entirely obviales a serious difficulty in which most readers are mvolved 
by the frequent occurrence o( Latin, Greek, and French passages, winch we suppose are introduced 
by authors for a mere show of learning — a difficulLy very perplexing to readers in general This 
" Dictionary of Quotations," concerning which too much cannot be said in its favour, effectually 
removes the difficulty, and gives the reader an advanlatre over the author; for we believe a majority 
are themselves ignorant of the meaning of t!ie terms they employ. Very few truly learned authon 
will msult their readers by introducing Latin or French quotations in their writings, when "plain 
English" will do as well ; but we will not enlarge on this point. 

If the book is useful to those unacquainted with other languages, it is no less valuable to the 
classically educated as a book of reference, and answers all llie purposes of a Lexicon — indeed, on 
many accounts, it is better. It saves the trouble of tumbling over the larger volumes, to which 
every one, and especially those engaged in the legal profession, are verv often subjected. It should 
have a place in every library in the country. 



RUSCHENBERGER'S NATURAL HISTORY', 

COMPLETE, WITH NEW GLOSSARY. 



t (BUmtuls nf llatiunl liBtori], 

EMBRACING ZOOLOGY, BOTANY AND GEOLOGY; 

FOR SCHOOLS, COLLEGES AND FAMILIES. 
BIT "W. S. "W. ^USClSS^BIIBG.ISHjSS.X). 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 

WITH NEARLY ONE THOUSAND ILLUSTRATIONS, AND A COPIOUS GLOSSARY. 

Vol. I. contains Vertebrate Animals. VoL II. contains Intervcrtebrate Animals, Botany, and Geology. 

A Beautiful and Valuable Presentation Book. 



THE POET'S OFFERING. 

EDITED BY MRS. HALE. 

With a Portrait of the Editress, a Splendid Illuminated 7 itle-Page, and Twelve Beautiful Engrav- 
ingo by Sartam. Bound in rich Turkey Morocco, and Extra Cloth, Gilt Edge. 

To those who wish to make a present that will never lose its value, this will be found the most 

j«sirable Gift-Book ever published. 

" We commend it to all who desire to present a friend with a volume not only very beautiful, bat 
of solid intrinsic value." — Washitioton Union. 

"A perfect treasury of the thoughts and fancies of the best English and American Poets. The 
paper ami printing are beautiful, and the biudm:; rich, elegant, and substantial; the most sensible 
and attractive of all the elegant gift-books we have seen." — Eoming Bulletin. 

" The publishers deserve the thanks of the puhUc for so hajijiy a thought, so well executed. The 
engravings are by the best artists, and the other portions of the work correspond in elegance."-- 
Public Ledijer. 

"There is no book of selections sodiversifiedandappropnate within our knowledge." — Pennsylv'n 

" It is one of the most valuable as well as elegant books ever published m tins country." — Godev'* 
Lady'i Book. 

" K IS the most beautifui and the most useful offering ever bestowed on the p ublic. No individua] 
of literary taste will venture to be witnout it."— 'Flu; City Item 

15 



LIPPINCOTT, GPvAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

THE YOUNG DOMINICAN; 
OR, THE MYSTERIES OF THE INQUISITION, 

AND OTHER SECRET SOCIETIES OF SPAIN. 
BY M. V. DE FEREAL. 

WITH HISTORICAL NOTES, BY M. MANUEL DE CUENDIAS 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH. 
ILLUSTRATED WITH TWENTY SPLENDID ENGRAVINGS BY FRENCH ARTISTS 

One volume, octavo. 

SAY'S POLITICAL ECONOMY. 



A TREATISE ON POLITICAL ECONOMY; 
Or, The Production, Distribution and Consumption of Wealth. 

BIT JUILl^ ISJLIBTISTB S^IT. 

FIFTH AMERICAN EDITION, WITH ADDITIONAL NOTES, 
BY C. C. BIDDLE, Esq. 

In one volume, octavo. 

It would be beneficial to our country if all those who are aspiring to office, were required by thett 
constituenis to be familiar with the passes of Say. 

The distinguished biographer of the author, m noticing this work, observes : " Happily for scieuco 
he commenced that study which fonns the basis of his admirable Treatise on Political Economy ; % 
work which not only improved under iiis hand witli every successive edition, but has been translated 
mto iDost of the European laiiguajjes." 

The Editor of the North American Review, speaking of Say, observes, that " he ia the mo«t 
popular, and perhaps the most able writer on Political Economy, since the time of Smith." 

LAURENCE STERNE'S ¥/ORKS, 

WITH A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR: 

WRITTEN BY IIIMSKLF. 

Wn'H SEVKN BEAUTIFUL lI.LUSTl^VnONS, ENGRAVED BY GILBERT AND GIHON, 
FROM DESIGNS BY D.VRLEY. 

One volume, octavo; clotli, gilt. 

Tn commend or to criticuse Sterne's Works, in this age of tlie world, would be all " wasteful and 
extravagant excess." Uncle Toby — Corpora! Trim — the Widow — Le Fevre — Poor Maria — the 
Captive — even the Dead Ass, — this is all wo have to say of Stenie; and in tlie memory of thesa 
character.^, histories, and sketches, a thousand follies and worse than follies are forgotten- Th« 
voliime is a very handsome one. 

THE r^EMiSAN WAR^AND ITS HEBOES, 

A COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE MEXICAN WAK, 

EMBRACING ALL THE OPERATIONS UNDER GENERALS TAYLOR AND SCOTT. 

WITH A BIOGRAPHY OF THE OFFICERS. 

ALSO, 

AN ACCOUNT OF THE CONQUEST OF CALIFORNIA AND NEW MEXICO. 

t'ader Ken. Keamv Cols. Doniphan and Fremont. Togetlier with Numerous Anecdotes of ttia 

War, and Personal Adventures of tiie Officers. Illustrated with Accurate 

Portraits, and other Beautiful Engravings. 

In one volume, 12ino. 

16 



LIPPINCOTT, QRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



NEW AND COr^PLETE COOK-BOOK. 



THE PRACTICAL COOK-BOOK, 

CONTAINING 0PWARD9 OF 

ONE THOUSAND HBG2IPTS, 

Ck)nsisting of Directions for Selecting, Preparing, ami Cookini» all kinds of Meats, Fish. Poultry, and 
Game; Soups, Broths, Vegetables, and Salads. Also, ror making all kmds of Plain aul 
FaKCj Breads, Pastes, Puddings, Cakes, Creams, Ices, Jellies, Preserves, Marma- 
lades, <tc. <tc. (to. Together with various Miscellaneous Recipes, 
and numerous Preparations for Invahds. 

BY MRS. BLISS. 
In one volume, 12mo. 

BY J. B. JONES, 

AUTHOR OF "WILD WESTERN SCENES," "THE WESTERN MERCHANT," *& 

ILLUSTRATED WITH TEN ENGRAVINGS. 

In one volume, 12mo. 



CALIFORNIA AND OREGON; 
OR, SIGHTS IN THE GOLD REGION, AND SCENES BY THE WAY. 

BY THEODORE T. JOHNSON. 
WITH NOTES, BY HON. SAMUEL R. THURSTON, 

Delegate to Congress from that Territory. 

With numerous Plates and Maps. 

AUNT PHILLIS'S CABIN; 

OR, SOUTHERN LIFE AS IT IS. 

BY MRS. MARY H. EASTMAN. 

PRICE, 50 AND 75 CENTS. 

This volume presents a picture of Southern Life, taken at diflFerent points of view from the oi»« 
occupied by the authoress of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." The writer, being a native of the South, is fi»- 
miliar with the many varied aspects assumed by domestic servitude in that sunny region, and there- 
fore feels competent to give pictures of " Southern Life, f s it is." 

Pledged to no clique or party, and free from the pressure of any and all extraneous influences, 
she has written her book with a view to its truthfulness; and the public at the North, as well as 
at the South, wiU. find in "Aunt Pliillis's Cabin" not the distorted picture of au interested painter, 
but the faitiiful transcript of a Daguerreolypist. 

WHAT IS CHURCH HISTORY? 

AVINDICATION OF THE IDEA OF HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENTS 

BY PHILIP SOHAF. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN. 

In one volume, 12mo. 
B» 1- 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO/S PUBLICATIONS. 

DODD'S LEGIURES. 
DISCOURSES To'yOUNG MEN. 

ILLUSTRATED BY NUMEROUS HIGHLY INTER^STmri ANECDOTES. 

BY "^S^ILLIAIVE DOBD, 1LL,.%9., 

CHAPLAIN IN ORmNARY TO HIS MAJKSTY GEORGE THE TIURD. 

FIRST AMEKICAN EDITION, WITH ENGRAVINGS- 

Une volume, l^mo 

THE IRIS: 

AN ORIGINAL SOUVENIR. 
With Contributions from the First Writers in the Country. 

EDITED BY PROP. JOHN S. HART. 

With Splendid Illuminations and Steel Engraving. . Bound in Turkey Moroeeo and rich Papier 

Mache Bindinit. 
IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVft. 
Its contents are entirelj? original. Among the contribntcors are names weil Known in the republic 
of letters ; such as Mr. Boker, Mr. Stoddard, Prof. Moffat, Edith May, Mrs. Sisroumey, Caroline May, 
Mrs. Kinney, Mrs. Butler, Mrs. Pease, Mrs. Swift, Mr. V»n Bibber, Rev. Charles T. Brooks, Mr«. 
Dorr, Erastus W. Ellsworth, Miss E. W. Barnes, Mrs. Williams, Mary Young, Dr. Gardette, Alice 
Carey. Phebe Carey, Aug:usta Browne, Hamilton Browns. Caroline Eustis. Marearet Junkin, Man* 
I. B, Browne, Miss Starr, Mrs. Brotherson, Kate CamnbelJ. <ki. 

dtiUH from \\}t §mxth Mint] 

OK, HOLY THOUGHTS UPON SACKED SUBJECTS. 

BY CLERGYMEN Or TilS EPISCOPAL CHURCH. 

EDITED BY THOMAS WYATT, A.l^. 

tat one volume, liiwo. 

WITH SEVEN BEAUTIFUL STEEL ENGRAVINGS. 

The contents of this work are chierfy by clergymen of the Episcopal Churc.Si. Among the con- 
tributors will be found the names of the Ris^ht Rev. BishoD Potter, Bishop Hopkins, Bi.shwp Smitii, 
Bishop Johns, and Bishop Doane ; and the Rev. Drs. H. V D. Johns, Colemaa, and Butler ; Rev. G. 
T. Bedell, M'Cabe, Ogilsby, <kc. The illustrations are rich and exquisitely wrought engravings upon 
t.ie following subjects: — "Samuel before Eli," "Peter and John healing the Lame Man," "The 
Resurrection of Christ," "Joseph sold by his Brethren," "The Tables of the Law," "Christ't 
Agony in the Garden," and " The Flight into Egypt." ''iffi.ise subjects, with many others in proee 
uid verse, are ably treated throutdioai the work. 



ANCIENT CHUISTIANITY EXEMPLIFIED, 

In the Private, DomestJc, Social, and Civil Lsife of the Frisnitlva 

Christians, anct m tlie Original InstitiitionK. OlHces, 

Ordinances, and Kitea of tile Ciimtf-^a. 

BY REV. LYMAN COLEMAN, D. D. 
lu one Vdlnine Svo, Price $2 50. 

18 



LIPPINCX)TT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

f ■•■ " 

LONZ POWEKS; Or, The Regulators. 
A ROMANCE OF KENTUCKY. 

FOUNDED ON FACTS. 

BY JAIVIES ^WEIR, ESQ. 

IN TWO VOLUMES. 
The scenes, characters, and incidents in these volumes have been c^pjed from nature, and &x)m 
eal life. They are represented as taking place at that period in the liistory of Kentucky, when 
Oie Indian, driven, after many a hard-fonght field, from his favourite hunting-ground, was succeeded 
by a rude and unlettered population, interspersed with organized bands of desperadoes, sca/cely 
less savage than the red men they had displaced. The author possesses a vigorous and graphifl 
pen, and haa produced a very interesting romance, which gives us a striking portrait of the times 
he deecribei. 

A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON BUSINESS; 

OR, HOW TO GET, SAVE, SPEND, GIVE, LEND, AND BEQUEATH MONEYi 

WITH AN INQUIRY INTO THE CHANCES OF SUCCESS AND CAUSES 

OF FAILURE IN BUSINESS. 

BY EDWIN T. FREEDLY. 

Also, Prize Essays, Statistics, Miscellanies, and numerous private letters from successful and 

dislinguished business men. 

12mo., cloth. Price One Dollar. 

The object of this treatise is fourfold. First, the elevation of the business character, and to define 
clearly the limits within which it is not only proper but obligatory to get money. Secondly, to lay 
down the principles which must be observed to insure success, and what must be avoided to escape 
failure. Thirdly, to give the mode of management in certain prominent pursuits adopted by the 
most successful, from which men in all kinds of business may derive profitable hints. Fourthly, to 
afford a work of solid interest to those who read without expectation of pecuniary benefit. 

A MANUAL OF POLITENESS, 

COMPRISINO TH£ 

PRINCIPLES OF ETIQUETTE AND RULES OF BEHAVIOUR 

EN GENTEEL SOCIETY, FOR PERSONS OF BOTF SEXES. 

ISmo., with Plates. 



Book of Politeness. 



THE GENTLEMAN AND LADY'S 
BOOK OF POLITENESS AND PROPRIETY OF DEPORTMENl 

DEDICATED TO THE YOUTH OP BOTH SEXES. 

BY 2VIADAME CELNART. 

Translated from the Sixth Paris Edition, Enlarged and Improved 

Fiftli American Kdition* 

One volume, 18mo. 

THE ANTEDILUVIANS; Or, The World Destroyed. 

A NAKRATIVB POEM, IN TEN BOOKS. 

BY JAMES M'HENRY, M.D. 

One volume, 18mo 

19 



LIPPiNCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



Bennett's (Rev. John) Letters to a Young Lady, 

ON A VARIETY OF SURJECTS CALCULATED TO IMPROVE THE HEART, 
TO FORM THE MANNERS, AND ENLIGHTEN THE UNDERSTANDING. 

"That our daughters may be as polished comersi of the temple." 
The publishers sincerely hope (for the happiness of mankind) that a copy of this valuable litlU 
work will be found the companion of every young lady, as much of the happiness of every familjr 
depends on the proper cultivation of the female mind. 



THE DAUGHTER'S 0¥/N BOOK: 

OR, PRACTICAL HIMS FROM A FATHER TO HIS DAUGHTER. 

One volume, 18mo. 

This is one of the most practical and truly Vflluable treatises on the culture and discipline of th« 
female mind, which has liitherto been published in this country ; and the publishers are very confi- 
dent, from the preat demand for this invaluable little work, that ere long it will be found in the 
library of every young lady. 

THE AMERICAN CHESTERFIELD : 

Or, "Youth's Guide to the ?/ay to ?/ealth, Honour, and DistinctioQ," k 18ino. 

OONTAININQ ALSO A COMPLETE TEEATISE ON THE ART OF CAKVINQ. 

"We most cordially recommend the American Chesterfield to general attention; but to young 
persons particularly, as one of the best work.s of the kind that has ever been published in thia 
country. It cannot be too highly appreciated, nor its perusal be unproductive of satisfaction and 
osefuluess." 

SENECA'S MORALS. 

BY WAY OF ABSTRACT TO WHICH IS ADDED, A DISCOURSE UNDER 
THE TITLE OF AN AFTER-THOUGHT. 

BYSIR ROGER L'ESTRANGE, KNT. 

A new, fine edition ; one volume, 18mo. 
A eopy of this valuable little work should be found in every family library. 

NEW SONG-BOOK. 

dngg'is louttjErn nnb WtBlm longsfer; 

BEING A CHOICE COLLECTION OF THE MOST FASHIONABLE SONGS, MANY OF WHICH 

ARE ORIGINAL. 

In one volume, 18mo. 

ttreat care was taken, in the selection, to admit no song that contained, in the slightest degre« 
any indelicate or improper allusions; and with great propriety it may claim thetitle of *' The Par- 
W>«r Song-Book, or Songster." The immortal Shakspeare observes — 
" The man that hath not music in himself. 
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils." 

ROBOTHAM'S POCKET FRENCH DICTIONARY. 

CAREFULLY REVISED, 

AND THE PRONUTSOIATiaN OF ALL THE DIFFICULT WORDS ADDED. 

20 



LIPPlaCOTT, GlialrtBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

THE LIFE AND OPINIONS DF TRISTRAM SHANDY, GENTLEMAN. 

CUMPRISINQ THE HUMOROUS ADVENTURES OF 

UNCLE TOBY AND CORPORAL TRIM. 

BIT S-, STEB.SS"S. 
Beautifully Illustrated Isy Darley* Stitclneda 

■ A sentimentTl journey. 

BY L. STERNB. 

Iliastrated as attove 1>y Darley* Stitclied* 

The beauties of tma auinor are so well Known, ami his errors m style and expression lo lew and 
Jar between, that Cfue inaas with renewe<} dslight Jiis delicate t-jms, &c. 

THE LIFE OF GENERAL JACKSON, 

WITH A LIKENESS OF THE OLD HERO. 
One Tolume, ISmp. 

LIFE OF P AU L JO N ES. 

in one volume, 12mo- 
WITH ONE HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS 

BY JAM£S HAMILTON. 

"3the work is comuiied irom ms original journals and correspondence, and includes an tuxMU&t of 
kis services in the American Revolution, and in the war between the Russians and Turka in th« 
Black Sea. There w scarcely any Naval Hero, of any age, who combined in his character so much 
of the adventurous, t&iltui and daring, as Paul Jones. The incidents of his life are almost as start 
ling and absorbing tts tnose of romance. Hi« achievements during the American Revolution — the 
fight between the Bon Homme Richard aaa Serapis, the most desperate naval action on record — 
and the alarm into wnich, with so small a force, he threw the coasts of England and Scotland — are 
matters comparatively weil known to Americans ; but the incinents of his subsequent career have 
Deen veiled in obscturity, which is dissipated by this biograpDy. A book like this, narrating the 
actions of such a wan, ought to meet with an extensive sale, and become as popular as Robinson 
Crusoe in fiction, or Weems's Life of Marion and Washington, and similar books, in fact. It con- 
tains 400 pages, has a banasome portrait and medallion likeness of Jones, and is illustrated with 
nnmeroua original wood engraving of naval scenes and duiungmshed men with whom he wai 
bmiliar. 

THE QHEEK EMILEf 

Or, A Narrative of rhs Capiiyiiv a^ad Escape of Cliristoplionis Plato Castsnis, 

DURING THE MASSACRE ON THE I.SLAND OF SCIO BY THE TURKS 
TOGETHER WITH VARIOUb' AUVENTURES IN GREECE AND Afi/IERJCA. 

WRIT%BN BY HIMSELF, 

vSuthor of an Essay on tRe Ancient and Modern Greek Langua?«.?; Interpretation of the Attribute 

of the Principal Fabulous Deities ; The Jewish Maiden of Scio's Citadel ; and 

the Wrpek hny in the Sunday-S>ciioc>L 

'One y«>>.ume, 12uio. 

THE YOUNG CHORISTER; 

A Collection of Ne-a? asm Beautiful Tunun ^'lapted to the use of i"Bbbath-Schools, from some oit^ 
most diatinc-autned composers ; u-^*r.r>er with many of th^ author's conipositions. 

EDITED r.y J^UNARI) W- WILSON. 
21 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO k CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

CAMP LIFE OF A VOLUNTEER. 

A Campaign in Mexico; Or, A Glimpse at, Life in Camp. 

BY "ONE WHO HAS SEEN THE ELEPHANT." 

%\U of (itntral ^nrliun] ^nqlnr, 

COMPRISING A NARRATIVE OF EVENTS aJNNECTED V.TTH HIS PROFESSIONAL 
CAJtEER, AND AUTHENTIC INCIDENTS OF HIS EAllLV VEARS. 

BY J. REESE FRY AND R. T. CONRAD. 

With an original and accurate Portrait, and elevon elegant Illustrations, by Uariey. 

In one handsome 12mo. volume. 

** It is by far the fullest and most interesting biog:raphy of General Taylor tliat we have ever seen." 
—Richmond { Whig) Chronicle. 

"On the whole, we are satisfied that this volume is the most correct and comprehensive one yet 
published." — Hu7iVs Merchants^ Magazine. 

"The superiority of this edition over the ephemeral publications of the day consists in fuller and 
more aullientic ac.couut.s of his family, his early Ufe, and Indian wars. Ttie narrative of his pro- 
ceedings in Mexico is drawn uartly from reliable private lelusrs, but chiefly from his own omcial 
correspondence." 

" It forms a cheap, substantial, and attractive volum*, and one which should be read at the fire- 
side of every family who desire a faitlilul and true lite of the Old General." 

GENERAL TAYLOR AND HIS STAFF : 

Comprising Memoirs of Generals Taylor, Worth, Wool, and Butler ;* Cols. May, Cross, Clay, Hardin, 

Yell, Hays, and other distinguished Officers attached to General Taylor's 

Army. Inters^persed with 

NUMEROUS ANECDOTES OF THE MEXICAN WAR. 

and Personal Adventures of the Officers. Compiled from Pubhc Documents and Private Corre- 
spondence, With 

ACCURATE PORTRAITS, AND OTHER BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
In one volume, 12mo. 



GENERAL SCOTT AND HIS STAFF ! 

(/omprising Memoirs of Generals Scott, Twiges, Smith, Quitman, Shields, Pillow, Lane, Cadwaladat 

Patterson, and Pierce ; Cols. Childs, Riley, Harney, and Butler ; and other 

distinguished officers attached to Genend Scott's Army. 

TOGETHER WITH 

Notices of General Kearny, Col. Doniphan, Col. Fremont, and oHier officers distinguiBlied in tha 
Conquest of California and New Mexico ; and Personal Adventures of the Officers. Com- 
piled from Public Documents and Private Correspondence. With 

' CCURATE PORTRAITS, AND OTHER BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS. 

In one volume, L^mo. 

THE FAMILY DEMTISI, 

li^CLUDING THE SURGICAL, MEDICAL AN^D MECHANICAL TREATMENT 

OF THE TEETH. 

Illustratetl wlllt tliirtyaoiie KngraviusfS* 

By CHARIuES A. DO' BOUCHET, M. D., Dental Surgeon. 
In one volume, I8mo. 

22 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

MECHANICS FOR THE MILLWRIGHT, ENGINEER AND MACHINIST, 
CIVIL ENGINEER, AND ARCHITECT: 

CONTAlNINa 

THE PRINCIPLES OF MECHANICS APPLIED TO MACHINEKY 

Of American models. Steam- Engines, Water-Works, Navigation, Bridge -building, &c. <kc B» 

FREDERICK OVERMAN, 
Author of "The Manufacture of Iron," and other scientific treatises. 

Illustrated by 150 Engravings. In one large 12mo. volume. 

WILLIAMS'S TRAVELLER'S AND TOURIST'S GUIDE 

Through the United States, Canada, &c. 

This book will be found replete with information, not only to the traveller, but likewise to th* 
man of business. In its preparation, an entirely new plan has been adopted, which, we are con- 
rinced, needs only a trial to be fully appreciated. 

Among its many valuable features, are tables showing at a glance the distaiux, fart, and tim» 
occupied in travelling from the principal cities to the most important places m the Union ; so thaV 
the question frequently asked, without obtaining a satisfactory reply, is here answered in fuH 
Other tables show the distances from New York, <fec., to domestic and foreign ports, by sea; and 
also, by way of comparison, from New York and Liverpool to the prineapal ports beyond and around 
Cape Horn, inc., as well as v%a the Isthmus of Panama. Accompanied by a large and accurate Map 
of vhe United States, including a separate Map of California, Oregon, New Mexico and Utah. Also, 
a Map of the Island of Cuba, and Plan of the City and Harbor of Havana; and a Map of Niagara 
River and Falls. 

THE LEGISLATIVE GUIDE". 

Containing directions for conducting business in tne House of Representatives ; the Senate of th« 
United States ; the Joint Rules of both Houses ; a Synoj)Sis of Jefferson's Manual, and copious 
Indices; together with a concise system of Rules of Order, based on the regulations of the 
U. S. Congress. Designed to economise time, secure uniformity and despatch in con- 
ducting business in all secular meetings, and also in aJl religious, pwlitical, and 
Legislative Assemblies. 

BY JOSEPH BARTLETT BURLEIGH, LL. D. 
In one volume, 12mo. 
This is considered by onr Judges and Congressmen as decidedly the best work of the kind extant 
Every yoong man in the country should hare a copy of this book. 

THE LNITIALS; A Story of Modern Life. 

THREE VOLUMES OF THE LOxVDON EDITION Cr-MPLETE IN ONE VOLUME 12M0, 
A new novel, equal to " Jane Eyre" 

WILD WESTERN SCENES : 

A NARRATIVE OF AOVENTURES IN THE WESTERN V/ILDERNESS. 

Wherein the Exploits of Daniel Boone, the Great Amencan Pioneer, are particularly descrrRed 

Also, Minute Accounts of Bear, Deer, and Buffalo ?Iunls — Desperate Conflicts with the 

Savages — Fishing and Fowhng Adventures — Encounters with Serpents, &c 

By Luke Shortfielb, Author of " The Western Merchant" 

BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED. One volume, 12mo. 

POEMS OF THE PLEASURES: 

Consisting of the PLEASURES OF IMAGINATION, by Akenside ; the PLEASURES OF MEMORY 

by Samuel Rogers ; the PLEASURES OF HOPE, by Campbell ; and the PLEASURES OF 

FRIENDSHIP, by M'Henry. With a Memoir of each Author, prepared expressly 

for tliis work. 18mo. 

23 



LIPPINCOTT, (IRAIVIBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



BALDWIiN'S PRONOUNCING GAZETTEER. 



A PRONOUNCING GAZETTEER: 

CONTAINING * 

TO^KjGRAPHICAL, statistical, and other information, Of ALL THE MORE IM 

PORTANT PLACES IN THE KNOWN WORLD, FROM THiJ MOST 

Rfc;CENT AND AUTHENTIC SOURCES. 

Sir TifOM-as BAXiD-wrN". 

Assisted hy several other Gentlemen. 

To which 18 added an APPENDIX, containing more than TEN TH0USAN1) ADDITIONAL NAMES 
oiiieAy of the small Towns and Villages, ic, of tiie United States atid of Mexico. 



NINTH EDITION, WITH A SUPPLEMENT. 

Df near two thousand namts. besides those 
:n itself a ConiDlete Vocaljularv of GeGgraphjCi 

ONE VOLUME 12mO. — PRIGS, $1.60. 



9iving the Pronunciation of near two thousand namts. besides those pmnonnced in tho Original 
Work : Forming in itself a ConiDlete Vocaljularv of Geographjcal Frouiiuciation. 



^rt[iur's libran] for tlij lnu0f[inlb. 

Complete in Twelve haiidsoine 18mo. Vomines, bound in Scarlet Cloth. 

L WOMAN'S TRIALS; OR. TALl^.S AND SKETCHt,a rUOM THE LIFE AKOUND US. 

2. MARRIED LIFE; ITS SHADOWS AND SUNSHINE 

3. THE TWO WIVES; OR LOST AND WON. 

4. THE WAYS OF PROVIDENCE ; OR, " !IK DOETH Ai.L IHINGS WJSLL." 
6. HOME SCENES AND HOME l.VFLUENCES. 

6. STORIES FOR YOUNG HOUSEKEEPERS. 

7. LESSONS IN LIFE. FOR ALL WHO WILL READ THEM. 

a SEED-TIME AND HARVEST; OR, WHATSOEVER A MAN vSOWfiTTH THAT SHALL HI 
ALSO REAP. 

9. STORIES FOR PARENTS. 

10. OFF-HAND SKEl'CHES, A LITTLE DASHED WITH SfUMOft. 
n. WORDS FOR THE WISE. 
12. THE TRIED AND THE TEMPli liD. 

The above Series are sold toiS^ettier nr separate, as each *rork is complete m \tm\). No Family ehouM 
be without a copy of this interestia? auu instructive Series. Price Thirtv-sevem aud a Half Cents p«r 
Volume. 

FIELD'S SCRAP BOOK.— New Edition. 

wonsistinff of Tales and Anecdote* — piosraphicai, H's'ont-at, Patriotic, Moral, Hwligious, and S«iia- 
nioatal Pieces, in Prose a&U Po*'t''» 

Compiled by WILLIAM FIELDB. 

SECOND EDniON, EEVISEi) AND IMPROVED. 
I In one ttdnusome 8vo. Volua*. Price, S;i.t*l 

POLITICS FOiriMElEA^rraKisTlAN^ 

A WORD UPON OUR EXAMPLE AS A NATIOJf, OUB LABOUR, Ao. 

TOGCTHER yrvta 
THE POLITICS OF THPJ NEW TESTAMENT. 

BY THE AUTHOR OP " NEW THEMES FCB THE PROTESTAWT CLERGT." 
One vol. 8vo., hali cloth. Price 50 cenu- For sale by all the Trade. 

THE HUr\1AN BODY AND ITS CONNEXION WITH MAN. 

ILLUSTRATED BY THE PRINCIPAL ORGANS. 
BY JAMES JIOHN GAKTH WILKINSON, 

Member of tae Royal College of Surgeons of Ensi*ufl. 
IN ©NE VOLUME, 12m<: -— r K T S $1 26 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

BOARDMAN'S BIBLE IN THE FAMILY. 



€^t %i\ilt in tjiB /amilt}: 

OR, 

HINTS ON DOMESTIC HAPPINESS. 

BY H. A. BOAPvDMAN, 

PASTOR OF THE TENTH PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, PHILADELPHIA. 
One Volume 12mo. — Price, One Dollar. 

WHEELEE^S HISTORY OF NORTH CAROLINA, 



OP 

NORTH CAROLINA, 

From 1584 to 1851. 

Co»npiled from Original Records, Official Documents, and Traditional Statements ; with Biographteai 
Sketches of her Distinguished Statesmen, Jurists, Lawyers, Soldiers, Divines, &.a 

BY JOHN H. WHEELER, 

Late Treasurer of the State. 
IN ONE VOLUME OCTAVO. — PRICE, $2.00. 

THE NORT^'cAioLIKTiEADER: 

CONTAINING 

A HISTORY AND DESCRIPTION OF NORTH CAROLINA, SELECTIONS IN PROSE 

AND VERSE, (MANY OF THEM BY EMINENT CITIZENS OF THE 

STATE), HISTORICAL AND CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES, 

Sn^ a Vnxhts of l^fsccllaucoua J;ufornxation anXi Statistics. 
BY C. H. WILEY. 

" My own green land for ever I • 

Land of the beautiful and brave — 
1 he freeman's lionie — the martyr's grave." 

Illustrated with Engravings, and designed for Familiea and Schools, 

ONE VOLUME 12M0. PRICE tl.OO. 

THIRTY YEARS WITH THE INDIAN TRIBE& 



PERSONAL MEMOIRS 



OF A 



HfsihnrB nf €ljirli{ '^tm initli i\)t Mm €n\in 

ON THE AMERICAN FRONTIERS: 

With brie/ Notices of passing Events, Facta, and Opinions, 
A. D, 1812 TO A. D. 1842. 

BY HENRY R. SCHOOLCRAFT. 

ONE LARGE OCTAVO VOLUME. PRICE THREE DOLLAR.?. 



ROMANTIC ADVENTUREriN NORTHERN MEXICO. 

BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, 

AUTHOR or THE "RIFLS R.iNGKRS." 

Complete in One Vvluivf. j'rice Fifttj Cknts, 

C 25 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



THE CONFESSIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. 

BY MRS. JOHN SMITH. 

TTITH THIRTEEN HUMOROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. 

One Volume 12mo. Price 50 Cents. 

Splendid Illustrated Books, suitable for Gifts for the Holidays 

THE IRIS: AN OHIGINAL SOUVEiNlR FOR ANY FARE. 

EDITED BY PROF. JOHN S. HART. 
WITH TWELVE SPLENDID ILLUMINATIONS, ALL FROM ORIGINAL DESIPNS. 



THE DEW-DROP : A TRIBUTE OF AFFECTION. 

WITH NINE STEEL ENGRAVINGS. 



GEMS FROM THE SACRED MINK- 

WITH TEN STEEL PLATES AND ILLUMINATIONS. 



€^t IJnrt's (Dffning* 

WITH FOURTEEN STEEL PLATES AND ILLUMINATIONS. 



THE STANDARD EDITIONS OF THE POETS. 

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 

OR, COUNTRY HOSPITALITIES. 

BY CATHARINE SIXCLAOl, 

Anthor of Jane Bouverie," "The Business of Life," "Modem Accomplishments," Ac 

One Volume 12»to. Price 50 cents, paper; cloth, Jine, 75 cents, 

A Book for every Family. 

THE DICTIONARY OF DOMESTIC MEDICINE AND HOUSEHOLD SURGERY. 

BY SPENCER THOMPSON, M.D., F.R.C.S., 

Of Edinburgh. 

ILLUSTRATED WITH NUMEROUS OUTS. 

*' ITBD AND ADAPTED TO THE WANTS OF THIS COUNTRY, BY A WELL-KNOWK 

PRACTITIONER OP PHILADELPHIA. 

In one volume, demi-octavo. 

€liB E^gtrth's Bairgjitn: 

A TALE OF TWO WORLDS. 

EY W. n. CARPENTER, 

AUTHOR OP "CLAIBORNE THE REBEL," "JOHN THE BOLD," AC, AC. 
One Volume 18mo. Price Thirty-seven and a Half C^nU. 

WILLIAMS'S NEW MAP OF THE UNITED STATES, ON ROLLERS 

SIZE TWO AND A HALF BY THREE FEET. 

A new Map of the United States, upon whicii are delineated its vast works of Internal Communl- 
eation, Routes across the Continent, &c., showinp; also Canada and llie Island of Cuba, 

BY W. WILLIAMS. 

Thip Map is handsomely colored and mounted nn rollers, and will be found a beautiful and \isefu' 
•rnament to the Oounting-House and Parlor as well as the School-Room. Frice Two 

26 



LirPlNCOTT, QRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

VALUiVELE ST ANDARD MED ICAL BOOKS. 

DISPENSATORY OF THE UNITED STATES. 

BY DRS. WOOD AND BACHE. 
New Edition, much enlarged and carefully revised. One volume, royal octavo. 



A TREATISE ON THE PRACTICE OF MEDICINE. 

BY GEORGE B. WOOD, M. D., 
Oae of the Authors of the " Dispensatory of the U. S.," 6ic. New edition, improved. H vols. Bve. 



AN ILLUSTRATED SYSTEM OF HUMAN ANATOMY; 
SPECIAL, MICROSCOPIC, AND PHYSIOLOGICAL. 

BY SAMUEL GEORGE MORTON, M. D. 
With 891 beautiful Illustrations. One volume, royal octavo. 

SMITH'S OPJJ^iMVE SURGERY. 
A SYSTEM OF OPEKATIVE SIIRGEIIY, 

BASED UPON THE PRACTICE OF SURGEONS IN THE UNITED 

STATES; AND COMPRISING A 

Bibliographical Index and Historical Record of many of their Operations, 

FOE, A PERIOD OF 200 YEARS. 
BY HENRY H. SMITH, M.D. 

Illustrated with nearly 1000 Engravings on Steel. 

MATERIA MEDICA AND THERAPEUTICS, 

With ample Illustrations of Practice in all the Departments of Meilical Science, and copious No- 
tices of Toxicolo^. 

.B"S' TKOMAS D. MITCKELI., A.I1I., M.D., 

Prof, of the Theory and Practice of Medicine in tlie Philadelplua College of Mbdicme, <fcc. 1 vol. 679. 



THE THEORY AND PRACTICE OF SURGERY 

By George M'Clellan, M. D. 1 vol. 8vo. 



EBERLE'S PRACTICE OF MEDICINE. 

New Edition. Improved by GEORGE M'CLELLAN, M. D. Two volumes in 1 vol. 8vo. 



EBERIE'S THERAPEUTICS. 

TWO VOLUMES IN ONfi. 



A TREATISE ON THE DISEASES AND PHYSICAL EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. 

By JOHN EBERLE, M. D., <tc Fourth Edition. With Notes and very large Additions, 

By Thomas D. Mitchell, A. M., M. D., &c. 1 vol. 8vo. 



EBERLE'S NOTES FOR STUDENTS-NEW EDITION, 

•»• These worlcs are used as text-books in most of the Medical Schools in the United States. 



A PRACTICAL TREATISE ON POISONS: 

Their Symptoms, Antidotes, and Treatment. By 0. H. Costill, M. D. 18mo. 



IDENTITIES OF LIGHT AND HEAT, OF CALORIC AND ELECTRICITY. 

BY C. CAMPBELL COOPER. 



UNITED STATES' PHARMACOPEIA, 

Bditiou of I6h\ HaMii,!i<:iJ \ty aulluirify of the National Meujral Ctinvention. 1 voL Bv» 



LIPPINCOTT, QRAMLO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
SCHOOLCRAFTS GREAT NATIONAL WORK ON THE 

PART SECOND— QUARTO. 
WITH EIGHTY BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL, 

Engrayed in the first style of the art, from Drawings by Captain Eastman, U. S. A. 

PRICE, FIFTEEN DOLLARS. 

COCKBURN'S L IFE OF LORD JEFFREY. 

LIFE OF LORD JEFFREY, 

WITH A SELECTION FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE, 

BY LORD COCKBURN, 

One of the Judges of the Court of Sessions in Scotland. Two volumes, demi-octaro. 

" Those who know Lord Jeffrey only through the pages of the Edinburgh Review, get but a on»» 
«ided, and not the most pleasant view of his character." 

" We advise our readers to obtain the book, and enjoy it to the full themselves. They will unite 
with us in saying that the self-drawn character portrayed in the letters of Lord Jeffrey, is one of tho 
most delightful pictures that has ever been presented to them." — Evening Bulletin. 

" Jeffrey was for a long period editor of the Review, and was admitted by all the other contribu- 
tors to be the leading spirit in it. In addition to his political articles, he soon showed his wonderful 
powers of criticism in literature. He was equally at home whether censuring or applauding; ib 
his onslaughts on the mediocrity of Southey, or the misused talents of Byron, or in his noble essay« 
«»c Sbakspeare, or Scott, or Barns."— New York Express. 

PRICE, TWO DOLLARS AND A HALF, 

ROMANCE OF NATURAL HISTORY; 

OR, ¥/ILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS, IN ONE VOLUME OCTAVO, CLOTH. 
BY C. W. WEBBER. 

" We have rarely read a volume so full of life and enthusiasm, so capable of transporting the 
reader into an actor among the scenes and persons described. The volume can hardly be opened 
at any page without arresting the attention, and the reader is borne along with the movement of a 
style vv-hose elastic spring and life knows no weariness."' — Boston Courier and Transcript, 

PRICE, TWO DOLLARS. 

THE LIFE OF WILLIAM PENN, 

WITH SELECTIONS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE AND AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 

BY SAMUEL M. JANNEY. 

Second Edition, Revised. 

•♦ Our author has acquitted himself in a manner worthy of his subject. His style is easy, flowing, 
and yet sententious. Altogether, we consider it a higlily valuable addition to the literature of our 
•g«. and a work that should find its way into the library of every Friend."— Friends' hitellwencer, 
Philadelphia. 

"We regard this life of the great founder of Pennsylvania as a valuable addition to the literature 
of tile comitry."— Philadelphia Evenmg Bulletin. 

We have no hesitation in pronouncing Air. Janney's life of Penn the best, because the most 
lutiilactory, that has yet been written. The author's style is (;lear and uninvolved, and well suited 
-o the purposes of biogi-aphical iianative." — Lonisville Journal. 

PRICE, TWO DOLLARS. 

28 



I 



LIPPINCOTT, OKAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



LIPPINCOTT'S CABINET HISTORIES OF THE STATES, 



COXSISTIXQ OF A SERIES OF 



Cabinet Histories of all the States of the Union, 

TO EMBRACE A VOLUME FOR EACH STATE. 
We have so far completed all our aiTangements, as to be able to issue the whole series in the 
shortest possible time consistent with its careful literary proiluctioa. SEVERAL VOLUMES ARE 
NOW READY FOR SALE. The talented authors who have engaged to write these Histories, are 
no ilrangers in the literary world. 



NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 

"These most tastefully printed and bound volumes form the first instalment of a series ot State 
Histories, which, without superseding the bulkier and more expensive works of the same charac- 
ter, may enter household channels from which the others would be excluded by their cost ami 
magnitude." 

" In conciseness, clearness, skill of arrangement, and graphic interest, they are a most excellent 
tamest of those to come. They are eminently adapted both to interest and instruct, and should 
aave a place in the family library of every American."— iV. Y. Courier and Enquirer. 

" The importance of a series of State History like those now in preparation, can scarcely be esti- 
nated. Being condensed as carefully as accuracy and interest of narrative wUl permit, the size 
»nd price of the volumes will bring them within the reach of every family in the country, thug 
tiaking them home-reading books for old and young. Each mdividual will, in consequence, become 
famihar, not only with the history of his own State, but with that of the other States ; thus mutual 
interests will be re-awakened, and old bonds cemented in a firmer re-union."— If (wn« Gazette. 



NEW THEMES FOE, THE PROTESTANT CLERGY; 

CREEDS WITHOUT CHARITY, THEOLOGY WITHOUT HUMANITY, AND PROTESTANT- 
ISM WITHOUT CHRISTIANITY! 

With Notes by the Editor on the Literature of Charity, Population, Pauperism, Political 
Economy, and Protestantism. 

"The'great question which the book discusses is, whether the Church of this age is what the 

primitive Church was, and whether Christians— both pastors and people— are doing their duty. Our 

anthor believes not, and, to our mind, he has made out a strong case. He thinks there is abundant 

room for reform at the present time, and that it is needed almost as much as in the days of Luther. 

And why 1 Because, ui his own words, ' While one portion of nominal Christians have busied 

themselves with forms and ceremonies and observances; with pictures, images, and processions; 

others have given to doctrines the supremacy, and ha^e busied themselves in laying down the 

lines by which to enforce human belief— lines of intei-pretation by which to control human opinion 

— lines of discipline and restraint, by which to bring human minds to uniformity of faith and action. 

They have formed creeds and catechisms ; they have spread themselves over the whole field of the 

sacred wrilmgs, and scratched up all the surface; they have gathered all the straws, and turned 

over all the pebbles, and detected the colour and determined the outline of every stone and tree 

and shrub; they have dwelt with rapture upon all that was beautiful and sublime; but they have 

tr:impled over mines of golden wisdom, of surpassing richness and depth, almost without a thought, 

and almost without an effort to fathom these priceless treasures, much less to take possession 

of them ' " 

PEICE, ONE DOLLAR. 



SIMPSON'S MILITARY JOURNAL. 



JOURNAL OF A MILITARY RECONNOISSANCE FROM SANTA FE, NEW 
MEXICO, TO THE NAVAJO COUNTRY. 

BY JAMES H. SIMPSON, A.M., 

FIRST LIEUTEXAXT CORPS OF TOPOGRAPHICAL ENGINEERS. 

WITH SEVENTY-FIVE COLOURED ILLUSTR A^-IONS^ 

One volume, octavo. Price, Three Dollars. 

C* 29 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

'tales of the southern border. 

BY C. W. WEBBER. 
ONE VOLUME OCTAVO, HANDSOMELY ILLUSTRATED. 

The Hunter Naturalist, a Romance of Sporting; 

OR, WILD SCENES AND WILD HUNTERS. 

BY C. W. WEBBER, 
Author of " Shot in the Eye," " Old Hicks the Guide," " Gold Mines of the Gila," 6io. 

ONE VOLUJIE, ROYAL OCTAVO. 

IIUSTRATED WITH FORTY BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS, FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS, 

MANY Oy WHICH ARE COLOURED. 

Price, Five Dollars. 

NIGHTS IN A BLOCK-HOUSE; 

OR, SKETCHES OF BORDER LIFE. 

Embracing Adventures among the Indians, Feats of the Wild Hunters, and Exploits of Boon*, 
Brady, Kenton, Whetzel, Fleehart, and other Border Heroes of the West. 

BY HENRY C. WATSON, 

Author of " Camp-Fires of the Revolution." 

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. 

One volume, 8vo. Price, $2 00. 

HAMILTON, THE YOUNG ARTIST. 

BY AUGUSTA BROWNE. 

■WITH 

AN ESSAY ON SCULPTURE AND PAINTING, 

BY HAMILTON A. C. BROWNE. 

1 vol. 18mo. Price, 37 1-2 cents. 

THE FISCAL HISTORY OF TEXAS: 

EMBRACING AN ACCOUNT OF ITS REVENUES, DEBTS, AND CURRENCY, FROM 

THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE REVOLUTION IN 1834, TO 1851-2, 

WITH REMARKS ON AMERICAN DEBTS. 

BY WM. M. GOUGE, 

Author of " A Short History of Paper Money and Banking in the United State*." 

In one vol. 8vo., cloth. Price $1 50. 

^ INGEPvSOLL'S HISTOM OF THE SECOND WAR: 

A HISTORY OF THE SECOND WAR BETWEEN THE U. STATES AND GT. BRITAIN. 

BY CHARLES J. INGERSOLL. 

Second series. 2 volumes, 8vo. Price $4 00. 

These two volumes, wliich embrace the hostile transactions between the United States and Great 
Britain during the years 1814 and 'l.'i, complete Mr. IngersoU's able work on the Second or " Lat« 
War," as it has usually been called. A great deal of new and valuable matter has been collected 
bv tilt author from original sources, and 15 now rirst introduced to the public 

80 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

FROST'S JUVENILE SERIES. 

TWELVE VOLUMES, 16mo., WITH FIVE HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS. 



WALTER O'NEILL, OR THE PLEASURE OF DOIIfG- GOOD. 25 Engray'ga. 

JUNKER SCHOTT, and other Stories. 6 Engravinga. 

THE LADY OF THE LURLEI, and other Stories, 12 Engrayings. 

ELLEN'S BIRTHDAY, and other Stories. 20 Engravings. 

HERMAN, and other Stories. 9 Engravings. 

KING- TREGEWALL'S DAUGHTER, and other Stories. 16 Engravinga. 

THE DROWNED BOY, and other Stories. 6 Engravings. 

THE PICTORIAL RHYME-BOOK. 122 Engravings. 

THE PICTORIAL NURSERY BOOK. 117 Engravings. 

THE GOOD CHILD'S REWARD. 115 Engravings. 

ALPHABET OF QUADRUPEDS. 26 Engravings. 

ALPHABET OF BIRDS. 26 Engravings. 

PRICE, TWEKTY-FIVE CENTS EACH. 

The above popular and attractive series of New Juveniles for the Young, are sold together * 
eeparately. 



THE MILLINER AND THE MILLIONAIRE. 

BY MRS. REBECCA HICKS, 

(Of Virginia,) Author of " The Lady Killer," <kc. One volume, 12ma 

Price, 373^ cents. 

STANSBUM'S 
EXPEDITION TO TKE GREAT SALT LAKE. 



AN EXPLOKATION 
OF THE VALLEY OF THE GREAT SALT LAKE 

OF UTAH, 

CONTAINING ITS GEOGRAPHY, NATURAL HISTORY, MINERALOGICAL RB. 
SOURCES, ANALYSIS OF ITS WATERS, AND AN AUTHENTIC ACCOUNT OP 

THE MORMON SETTLEMENT, 

ALSO, 

A RECONNOISSANCE OF A NEW ROUTE THROUGH THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS. 

WITH SEVENTY BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS, 

FROM DRAWINGS TAKEN ON THE SPOT, 

AND TWO LARGE AND ACCURATE MAPS OF THAT REGION. 

BTT X20'V7iVRX> ST.A. ITS BURT, 

CAPTAIN TOPOGRAPHICAL ENGINEERS. 
One volume, royal octavo. Price Fiv« Dollars. 

31 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 
THE ABBOTSFORD EDITION 

OP ^ 

PRINTED UPON FINE WHITE PAPER, WITH NEW AND BEAUTIFUL TYPE, 
FROM THE LAST ENGLISH EDITION, 

EMBEACINQ 

THE AUTHOR'S LATEST CORRECTIONS, NOTES, ETC., 

COMPLETE IN TWELVE VOLUMES, DEMI-OCTAVO, AND NEATLY BOUND IN CLOTR 

^j&itt) Jxllustrations, 
FOR ONLY TWELVE DOLLARS, 

CONTAININa 

WAVERLEY, or 'Tis Sixty Years Since THE FORTUNES OF NIGEL. 

GUY MANNERINQ PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. 

THE ANTIQUARY QUENTIN DURWARD. 

THE BLACK DWARF ST. RONAN'S WELL. 

OLD MORTALITY REDGAUNTLET. 

ROB ROY THE BETROTHED. 

THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN THE TALISMAN. 

THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR WOODSTOCK. 

A LEGEND OF MONTROSE THE HIGHLAND WIDOW, &0. 

IVANHOE THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH. 

THE MONASTERY ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. 

THE ABBOT COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS. 

KENILWORTH CASTLE DANGEROUS. 

THE PIRATE THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER, &« 

ANY OF THE ABOVE NOVELS SOLD, IN PAPER COVERS, AT FIPTT CENTS EACH. 



ALSO, 

AN ILLUSTRATED EDITION 

OP 

THE WAVERLEY NOVELS, 

In Twelve Volumes, Royal Octavo, on Superfine Paper, with 

SEVERAL HUNDRED CHARACTERISTiC AND BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 

ELEGANTLY BOUND IN CLOTH, GELT. 

^tfce, ©nig 2rtDenti)*J?oiir ISollars. 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

A NEW AND C03IPLETE 

GAZETTEER OF THE UNITED STATES. 

It will furnish the fullest and most recent information respecting the Geography, Statistics, and 
present state of improvement, of every part of this great Kepublic, particularly of 

TEXAS, CALIFORNIA, OREGON, NEW MEXICO, 

iic. The work will be issued as soon as the complete official returns of the present Census am 

received. 

THE ABOVE WORK WILL BE FOLLOWED BY 

A UNIVERSAL GAZETTEER, OR GEOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY, 

of the most complete and comprehensive character. It will be compiled from the best English, 
French, and German authorities, and will be published the moment that the returns of the present 
census of Europe can be obtained. 



THEIR DOMESTIC POLITY AND THEOLOGY, 

BY J, W. GtmNISON, 
U. S. Corps Topographical Engineers. 
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS, IN ONE VOLUME DEMI-OCTAVO. 

PRICE FIFTY CENTS. 



REPORT OF A QE0L0S90AL SURVEY 

OP 

WISCONSIN, IOWA, AND MINNESOTA, 

AND INCIDENTAf,LY OF 

A PORTION OF NEBRASKA TERRITORY, 

.\fADE UNDER INSTRUCTIONS FROM THE U. S. TREASURY DEPARTMENT, 

United States' Geologist. 
WITH OVER 150 ILLUSTRATIONS ON STEEL AND WOOD. 

Two volumes, quarto. Price Ten Dollars. 

MERCHANTS' MEMORANDUM BOOK, 

CONTAIXINU LISTS OF ALL GOODS PURCHASED BY COUNTRY MERCHANTS, &o 
One volume, i8mo., Leather cover. Price, K cents. 

33 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

All Til UK'S 

BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED. 

1. WHO IS GREATEST ? and other Stories. 

2. WHO ARE HAPPIEST? and other Stories. 

3. THE POOR WOOD-CUTTER, and other Stories. 

4. MAGG-Y'S BABY, and other Stories. 

5. MR. HAVEN'T-GOT-TIME AND MR. DON'T-BE-IN-A-HURRY. 

6. THE PEACEMAKERS. 

7. UNCLE BEN'S NEW-YEAR'S GIFT, and other Storlei. 

8. THE WOUNDED BOY, and other Stories. 

9. THE LOST CHILDREN, and other Stories. 

10. OUR HARRY, and other Poems and Stories. 

11. THE LAST PENNY, and other Stories. 

12. PIERRE, THE ORGAN BOY, and other Stories. 

EACH VOLUME IS ILLUSTRATED WITH 

ENGRAVINGS FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS BY CROOME, 

And are sold together or separately. 



TRUTHS ILLUSTRATED BY GREAT AUTHORS. 

A DICTIONARY OF OVER FOUR THOUSAND AIDS TO REFLECTION— QUOTA- 
TIONS OF MAXIMS, METAPHORS, COUNSELS, CAUTIONS, APHORISMS, 
PROA^ERBS, &c. Ac, IN PROSE AND VERSE; 

COMPILED FROM SHAKSPEARE, AND OTHER GREAT WRITERS, FROM THE 
EARLIEST AGES TO THE PRESENT TIME. 

A new edition, -with American additions and revisions. 



LIBRARY EDITION OF SHAKSPEARE. 

(LARGE TYPE.) 

THE DRAMATIC WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE, 

WITH A LIFE OF THE POET, 

AND NOTES OTIIGINAL AND SELECTED, TOGETHER WITH A COPIOUS GLOSSABT. 

4 VOLUMES OCTAVO. 

STYLES OF binding: 

Cloth, extra .«.- $6 00 

Library style 7 00 

Half-Turkey morocco 9 00 

Half-calf and Turkey, antique style 12 00 

lull calf and Turkey, antique style 16 00 

84 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

t /oot].iQt[i nnb ligtirani]; 

OR, 

WANDERINGS OF AN AMERICAN IN GREAT BRITAIN. 

IN 1851 AND '52. 
BY BENJAMIN MORAN, 

Thisvolnmo entiddics the obsei-vations of the author, made during eight months' wanderings, 
as a correspondent for American Journals ; and as he travelled much on foot, differs essentially 
from those on the same countries, by other writers. The habits, manners, customs, and condition 
nf the people have been carefully noted, and his views of them are given in clear, bold language 
His remarks take a wide range, and as he visited every county in England but three, there will b« 
much in the work of a novel and instructive character. 

One vol. 12mo. Price $1 25. 



DAY DREAMS. 

BIT KIISS JUIAHTJ^A. jBlIiZiES7. 

ONE VOLUME 12ino. 
Price, paper, 50 cents. Cloth, 75 cents. 

SIMON KENTON: OR, THE SCOUT'S REVENGE. 

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE. 

BY JAMES WEIR. 

Illustrated, cloth, 75 cents. Paper, 50 cents. 

MARIE DE BERNIERE, THE MAROON, 

AND OTHER TALES. 

BY W. GILMORE SIMMS. 
1 vol. 12mo., cloth. Price $1 25. 

HISTORY OF THE NATIONAL FLAG OF THE UNITED STATES. 

WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS. 

BY SCHUITTiBH £IiLMIZ.TOI7, 

CAPTAIN Br BRETET, U.S.A. 
One vol., crown 8vo. Price $1 00. 

ANNA BISHOP'S TRAVELS. 



TRAVELS OF ANNA BISHOP IN MEXICO (1849) 

WITH TV/ELVE BEAUTIFUL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
Price, paper, 50 cents. Cloth, 75 cents. 

35 



LIPPINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO. '3 PUBLICATIONS. 



A REVIE 

OF 

"NEW THEMES FOR THE PROTESTANT CLERGY." 

ONE VOLUME 12ino. 
Price, paper, 25 cents. Cloth, 50 centa. 

THE BIBLE IN THE COUNTING-HOUSE. 

B? H. A. BOiV.RI>MAI7, D.D., 

AUTHOR OP "the BIBLE IN THE FAMIL Y." 

One Tol. 12mo., cloth. Price One Dollar. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A NEW CHURCHWIAN. 

BY JOHN A. LITTLE. 

ONE VOLUME 12mo. PRICE 75 CENTS. 

MILTON'S WORKS-NEW AND COMPLETE EDITION, 



MiltDirs ^^UEtiral ^Bnrks, 

WITH A LIFE, DISSERTATION, INDEX, AND NOTES. 

BY PROF. C. D. CLEVELAND. 
ONE VOLUME ROYAL 12mo., CLOTH. PRICE $1 25. 



UNIFOHM AND DRESS 

OF THE 

ARMY OF THE UNITED STATES 

WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS. 
QUARTO, CLOTH. PRICE FIVE DOLLARS. 

UNIFORM AND DRESS 

OP THE 

NAVY OF THE UNITED STATES 

WITH COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS. 
QUARTO, CLOTH. PRICE FIVE DOLLARS. 

' ^ 36 



LIPPINCOTT, QRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 

THE POETICAL WORKS OF ROGERS, CAMPBELL, MONTGOMERY, 
LAMB, AND KIRKE WHITE. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVO. 
WITH SIX BEAUTIFUL ENGKAVINGS. 

Tbe beauty, correctness, and convenience of this favourite edition of these standard authors ara 
so well known, that it is scarcely necessary to add a word in its favour. It is only necessary to say, 
that the publishers have now issued an illustrated edition, which greatly enhances its former value. 
Tlie engravings are excellent and well selected. It is the best library edition extant. 






CMBBE, HEBER, AND POLLOK'S POETICAL WOEKS. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, OCTAVO. 
WITH SIX BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 

A vrriter in the Boston Traveller holds the following language with reference to these valuable 
editions : — 

" Mr. Editor : — I wish, without any idea of puffing, to say a word or two upon the ' Library of 
English Poets' that is now published at Philadelphia, by Lippincott, Grambo <k Co. It is certainly, 
taking into consideration the elegant manner in which it is printed, and the reasonable price at 
which it is afforded to purchasers, the best edition of the modem British Poets that has ever been 
published in this country. Each volume is an octavo of about 600 pages, double columns, steneo- 
typed, and accompanied with fine engravings and biographical sketches ; and most of them are 
reprinted from Galignani's French edition. As to its value, we need only mention that it contains 
the entire works of Montgomery, Gray, Beattie, Collins, Byron, Cowper, Thomson, Milton, Voung, 
Rogers, Campbell, Lamb, Hemans, Heber, Kirke White, Crabbe, the Miscellaneous Works of Gold- 
smith, and other masters of the lyre. The publishers are doing a great service by their publication, 
snd their volumes are almost in as great demand as the fashionable novels of the day ; and they 
deserve to be so : for they are certainly printed in a style superior to that in which we have before 
bad the works of the English Poets." 

No library can be considered complete without a copy of the above beautiful and cheap editions 
of the English Poets ; and persons ordering all or any of them, will please say Lippincott, Grambo 
4i Co.'s illustrated editions. 



A COMPLETE 

lirtionarii nf ^mlmi (tmlnimm: 

COMPRISING THE MOST EXCELLfENT AND APPROPRIATE PASSAGES IN 
THE OLD BRITISH POETS; WITH CHOICE AND COPIOUS SELEC- 
TIONS FROM THE BEST MODERN BRITISH AND 
AMERICAN POETS. 

EDITED B7 SARAH JOSEPHA HALE. 

As nightingales do upon glow-worms feed, 
So poets live upon the living light 
Of Nature and of Beauty. 

Bcdley's Festus. 

■MUtifulIy illustrated with Engravings. In one Buper-royal octavo volume, in various 

bindings. 

The publishers extract, from the many highly complimentary notices of the above valuable and 
beautiful work, the follovring : 

"We have at last a volume of Poetical Quotations worthy of the name. It contains nearly six 
hundred octavo pages, carefully and tastefully selected from all the home and foreign authors of 
celebrity. It is mvaluable to a writer, while to the ordinary reader it presents every subject at a 
glance." — Cfodey's Lady's Book. 

" The plan or idea of Mrs. Hale's work is felicitous. It is one for which her fine taste, her orderly 
Uabits of mind, and her long occupation with literature, has given her peculiar facilities ; and tho- 
roughly has she accomplished her task in the work before us." — Sar tain's Magazine. 

" It is a choice collection of poetical extracts from everv English and American author worth 
perusing, from the days of Chaucer to the present time." ■'Washington Union. 

" There im Dothin^ negative about this work ; it is vosHively good." — Evening Bulletin. 

10 



»PINCOTT, GRAMBO & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. 



THE DIAMOND E&ITION OF BYRp. 
THE POETICAL WORKS OF LORD BYRON, 

•WriTH A SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 

COMPLETE IN ONE NEAT DUODECIMO VOLUME, WITH STEEL PLATES. 

The type of this edition is to perfect, and it is printed with so much care, on fine white paper, 
that it can be read with as mncti ease as most of the lacgm editions. This work is to be had ii-' 
plain and superb binding, making a beautiful volume for a gift. 

Ho'i'J,'^ '^w"?' '^'T** ?r ^'^^ ^^^' «"n»PJefe «n one volume : published by L., G. & Co., PhUa 
ilSfroiXe w' ' 'nsaymg that, lake it altogether, ti/s is the most elegant wo;k ever 

whnll",ff1n;JfRvi'^,"' m" ■-»'■ than an ordinary duadecimo, the publishers have embraced the 
whole of Lord Byroii s Toerns, usuaUy printed m ten or twelvevolumes; and, what is more remark- 
?,!?;?>'' "^"'r '^,,^1 pi a type so clear and distinct, that, notwithstanding its necessarily small s^ze, 
h^^f^JiV^"^ "'i^'' "'^ "'"'°'' '^^.^"^y' •'^^^ ^7 '^'1'"^ ^y '•■''■ The book is stereotyped ■ and never 
^.l ^^.^'^^ ^ ^T specimen of that art. LVerythin? about it is perfect -the naper, the print- 

wJl'i w^rf H ^' "'' '^"''"^T^ '^''^^^"^^ '^"'^ '^ 's embemsKed with two'fiie engra^ 

well worthy the companionship m wluch they are placed 
" 'This will make a beautiful Christmas present ^ 

is writ! Jif 1? Mrel'^Hjar^ ^''°'" ^""^^^'^ ^^^^'^ ^"°''' '^^'^ °°"'^ '^®"'' "^^ *" ^^«° ^ understand 
v.^.^1*^ h:ive to add our commendation in favour of this beauUful volume, a copy of which ha.'^ 
been sent us by the publishers. The admirers of the noble bard will feel obliged to the enterpri^ 
which has prompte<l the publishers to dare a competition with the numerous editions of his work ■- 
already in circulation ; and we shall be surprised if this convenient trdvellin? edition does not in ; 
great degree supersede the use of tne large octavo works, which have little advantage in size ai:c' 
openness of type, and are much inferior in the quaUties of portabUity and lightness," — 2nte«*s»icer, 

THE DIAMOND EDITION OF MOORE. 

(OORRESPONDINa WITH BYEON.) 

THE POETICAL WORKS'or THOMAS MOORE, 

COLLECTED BY HIMSELF. 

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 

Tnis work is published uniform with Byron, from the last London edition, and is the most com- 
plete printed in the goimtry. 

THE DIAMOND EDITION OF SJIAKSPEARE. 

(COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME,) 

X£7CXiT7SZ27G A SKBTGH OF HIS ZiIFX!. 

UNIFORM WITH BYRON AND MOORE. 
THE ABOVE WORKS CAN BE HAD IN BETERAL jKARIETIES OF B1HBIN6. 

GOLDSMITH'S ANIMATED NATUEE. 

IN TWO VOLUMES, OCTAVO. 
BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED WITH 385 PLATES. 

CONTAINING A HISTORY OF THE EARTH, ANIMALS, BIRDS, AND FISHES; FORMING 
THE MOST COMPLETE NATURAL HISTORY EVER PUBLISHED. 

This is a work that should be in the library of every family, having been written by one of the 
most talented authors in the English language. 

" Gfildsmith can never be made obsolete while delicate genius, exquisite foelisg, fine iuveatioiw 
the most harmonions metre, and the happiest diction, are at all valued." 



BIGLAND'S NATUKAL HISTORY 

Of Aaimals, Birds, Fishes, Reptiles, and Insects. Illustrated with numerous and beautiful EacrJlv 

ings. By JOHN BIGLAND, author of a " View of the World," " letters aa 

Foiversal History," (Sec. Complete in 1 vol.. l2mo. 



^^ 



.-^ 



.^ 









■■> 



.^' 



V 1 






^^. <.r 






■fi 



"oo^ 



,-> = 



'O 



:C^' 



.<^ ^<^. 



^-^ 



O^ 



. s ** 



1 \ 



» ^ ^ ^ a\^ 









rO 



s ' 



,<!:^ ■^'t- '*' 






\^ 



x^- 



^'S 



8 1 A' 



-# "-. 



a'^^' ■% 















^.^ 




.0*^ c, « ^ ^^ 




^iv^. 






5^ 



V^ 






X^^x. 



^ 





o 






..... ■^'"^^ J^o-:.. -"<."'■'■ .^ ..... --^ 







\ 

















-j^ 









o 0^ 






r <? C:» 



%• 



8 1 "^ 



■\ 



-0- 









'^:^'' "'%, ^ 'V, 



